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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


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1.25 


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ilM    1112.2 


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12.0 


1.4    IIIIII.6 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions 


Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


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Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


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IPX 14X 18X  22X 

I     I     I     I     I     I     I     I     M     I     I    I     I 


12X 


16X 


20X 


26X 


30X 


24X 


28X 


n 

32X 


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d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

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et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mdthode. 


1     1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


BY 


W.  D.  HOWELLS, 

AITIIOKOK  "VKXKTIAN   UKK,"  **  ITAUAN  JOUUNKYS,"  KTC. 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS    BY 


AUGUSTUS  II OP  PIN. 


BOSTON: 
rAMES  R.  OSGOOD  AND   COMPANY. 

LaTB  TlCKSOR  &  FlKLDS,  AND   FIELDS,  OsOOOD,    &  CO 


]872. 


1C1G89 


PROPERTY  OF  THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  WATERLOO 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1871,  by 

W.    D.    IIOWELLS, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


BJTKRStSI,  OAMBRIBOX : 
■TIBIOTTPKD    AND    PBINTID    Bt 

n  0.  aouoHTON  and  compant. 


CONTENTS. 

— ♦— 

MM 

I. 

TlIK  OL'TSET 1 

II. 

A   MlDaUMMEU-DAY'S   DUEAM 85 

III. 

TlIK  Night  Boat 5g 

IV. 
A  Day's  Uailhoadino gQ 

TUK  EXCIIANTED    CiTY,    AND    BEYOND 97 

VI. 

Niagara jja 

VII. 
Down  the  St.  Lawhence 172 

VIII. 
The  Sentiment  of  Montkeal I95 

IX. 
Q"K»KC 228 

X. 
Homeward  and  Home ,278 


THEIR  WEDDmG  JOUEKEY. 


I. 


THE  OUTSET. 

They  first  met  in 
Boston,  but  the 
match  was  made 
in  Europe,  where 
they  afterwards 
saw  each  other ; 
whither,  indeed, 
he  followed  her ; 
and  there  the 
match  was  also 
broken  off.     Why 

^^Lg^^-^     ^vj^    ^  ^^  ^^'^^  broken  off, 

^5^^-    ^    ^  and   why   it    was 

renewed  after  a  lapse  of  years,  is  part  of  quite  a 
long  love-story,  which  I  do  not  tliink  myself  qual- 
ified to  rehearse,  distrusting  my  fitness  for  a 
sustained  or  involved  narration ;  though  I  am 
persuaded  that  a  skillful  romancer  could  turn  the 
courtship  of  Basil  and  Isabel  March  to  excellent 
account.     Fortunately  for  me,  however,  in  attempt- 


I 


Si  THEIR  WEDDING   JOURNEY. 

ing  to  tell  the  reader  of  the  wedding-journoy  of 
a  newly  married  couple,  no  lonj^er  very  young,  to 
be  sure,  but  Htill  fresh  in  the  light  of  their  h)ve,  I 
shall  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  talk  of  some  ordi- 
nary traits  of  Ameruian  life  as  these  appeared  to 
them,  to  speak  a  Utile  of  well-known  and  easily 
accessible  plaires,  to  present  now  a  bit  of  landscape 
and  now  a  sketch  of  character. 

'J'hey  had  agreed  to  made  their  wedding-journey 
in  the  simjjlest  and  qui«;test  way,  and  as  it  did  not 
take  place  at  once  after  their  mari'iage,  but  some 
weeks  later,  it  had  all  the  desired  charm  of  privacy 
from  the  outset. 

"  How  much  better,"  said  Isabel,  "  to  go  now, 
when  noboily  cares  whether  yon  go  or  stay,  than  to 
have  started  off  upon  a  wretched  wedding-break- 
fast, all  tears  and  trousseau,  and  had  people  want- 
ing to  see  you  aboard  the  cars.  Now  there  will  not 
be  a  9Usj)icion  of  honey-moonsliine  about  us  ;  we 
shall  go  just  like  anybody  else,  —  with  a  difference, 
dear,  with  a  difference  I "  and  she  took  I^asil's 
cheeks  between  her  hands.  In  order  to  do  this,  she 
had  to  run  round  the  table ;  for  they  were  at  diimer, 
and  Isabel's  aunt,  with  whom  they  had  begun 
married  life,  sat  substantial  between  them.  It  was 
rather  a  girlish  thing  for  Isabel,  and  she  added,  with 
a  conscious  blush,  "We  are  past  our  first  youth, 
you  know ;  and  we  shall  not  strike  the  public  as 
bridal,  shall  we  ?  My  one  horror  in  life  is  an  ev- 
ident bride." 


THE  OUTSET. 


8 


of 


Basil  looked  at  her  fondly,  as  if  be  did  not  think 
her  at  all  too  old  to  be  taken  for  a  bride  ;  and  for 
my  part  I  do  not  object  to  a  woman's  being  of  Isa- 
bel's age,  if  she  is  of  a  good  heart  and  temper. 
Life  must  have  been  very  unkind  to  her  if  at  that 
age  she  have  not  won  more  than  she  has  lost.  It 
seemed  to  Basil  that  his  wife  was  quite  as  fair  as 
when  they  met  first,  eight  years  before  ;  but  he 
could  not  help  recurring  with  an  inextinguishable 
regret  to  the  long  interval  of  their  broken  engage- 
ment, which  but  for  that  fatality  they  might  have 
spent  together,  he  imagined,  in  just  such  rapture 
as  this.  The  regret  always  haunted  him,  more  or 
less ;  it  was  part  of  his  love  ;  the  loss  accounted 
irreparable  really  enriched  the  final  gain. 

"  1  don't  know,"  he  said  presently,  with  as  much 
gravity  as  a  man  can  whose  cheeks  are  clasped 
between  a  lady's  hands,  *'■  you  don't  begin  very  well 
for  a  bride  who  wishes  to  keep  her  secret.  If  you 
behave  in  this  way,  they  will  j)ut  us  into  the  *  bridal 
chambers '  at  all  the  hotels.  And  the  cars  —  they're 
beginning  to  have  them  on  the  palace-cars." 

Just  then  a  shadow  fell  into  the  room. 

'^  Wasn't  tiiat  thunder,  Isabel  ?  "  asked  her 
aunt,  who  had  been  contentedly  surveying  the  ten- 
der spectacle  before  her.  "  ()  dear  !  you'll  never  be 
able  to  go  by  the  boat  to-night,  if  it  storms.  It 's 
actually  raining  now  !  " 

In  fact,  it  was  the  beginning  of  that  terrible 
storm  of  June,  1870.     All  in  a  moment,  out  of  the 


Ill' 


THEIR    .v'EDDlNG  JOURNEY. 


hot  sunshine  of  the  day  it  burst  upon  us  before  we 
quit(5  iciiow  tluit  it  threatened,  even  before  we  had 
fairly  noticed  the  clouds,  and  it  went  on  from  passion 
to  ])asHion  with  an  inexhaustible  violence.  In  the 
square  upon  which  our  friends  looked  out  of  their 
dinintr-rooni  windows  the  trees  whitened  in  the 
gusts,  and  darkened  in  the  driving  floods  of  the  rain- 
fall, and  in  some  ])aroxysms  of  the  tempest  bent 
themselves  in  desperate  ^'ibmission,  and  then  with 
a  great  shudder  rent  away  whole  branches  and  flung 
them  far  off  upon  the  ground.  Hail  mingled  with 
the  I'ain,  and  now  the  few  umbrellas  that  had  braved 
the  storm  vanished,  and  the  hurtling  ice  crackled 
upon  the  pavement,  where  the  lightning  played  like 
flames  burning  from  the  earth,  while  the  thunder 
roared  overhead  without  ceasing.  There  was  some- 
thing splendidly  theatrical  about  it  .ill  ;  and  when  a 
Btreet-car,  laden  to  the  last  inch  of  its  capacity, 
came  by,  with  horses  that  pranced  and  leaped  under 
the  stinging  blows  of  the  hail-stones,  our  friends 
felt  as  if  it  were  an  efTective  and  very  naturalistic 
bit  of  pantomime  contrived  for  their  admiration. 
Yet  as  to  themselves  they  were  very  sensible  of  a 
potent  reality  in  the  affair,  and  at  intervals  during 
the  storm  they  debated  about  going  at  all  that  day, 
and  decided  to  go  and  not  to  go,  according  to  the 
changing  complexion  of  the  elements.  Basil  had 
said  that  as  this  was  their  first  journey  together  in 
America,  he  wished  to  give  it  at  the  beginning  as 
pungent  a  national  character  as  possible,  and  that 


THE   OUTSET. 


as  he  oouUl  imagine  nothing  more  peculiarly  Amer- 
ican tlian  a  voyage  to  New  York  by  a  Fall  River 
boat,  they  ouglit  to  tai^e  that  route  thitlier.  So 
much  upholstery,  so  much  music,  such  variety  of 
company,  he  understood,  could  not  be  got  in  any 
other  way,  and  it  might  be  that  they  would  even 
catcii  a  glimpse  of  the  inventor  of  the  combination, 
who  represented  tlie  very  excess  and  extremity  of  a 
certain  kind  of  Americanism.  Isabel  had  eagerly 
consented  ;  but  tliese  justhetic  motives  were  para- 
lyzed for  her  by  the  thought  of  passing  Point  Judith 
in  a  storm,  and  she  descended  from  her  higli  intents 
first  to  the  Inside  Boats,  without  the  magnificence 
and  the  orchestra,  and  then  to  the  idea  of  going  by 
land  in  a  sleeping-car.  Having  comfortably  ac- 
com})lished  this  feat,  slie  treated  Basil's  consent  as  a 
matter  of  course,  not  because  she  did  not  regard 
him,  but  because  as  a  woman  she  could  not  conceive 
of  the  steps  to  her  conclusion  as  unknown  to  liim, 
and  always  treated  her  own  decisicms  as  the  product 
of  their  common  reasoning.  But  her  husband  held 
out  for  the  boat,  and  insisted  that  if  the  storm  fell 
before  seven  o'clock,  they  could  reach  it  at  Newport 
by  the  last  express ;  and  it  was  this  obstinacy  that, 
in  proof  of  Isabel's  Avisdom,  obliged  tiiem  to  wait 
two  hours  in  the  station  before  going  by  the  land 
route.  The  storm  abated  at  five  o'clock,  and  though 
the  rain  continued,  it  seemed  well  by  a  quarter  of 
seven  to  set  out  for  the  Old  Colony  Depot,  in  sight 
of  which   a   sudden  and   vivid  flash  of  lightning 


m 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


Ih 


11 


caused  Isabel  to  seize  her  husband's  arm,  and  to 
implore  him,  "  O  don't  go  by  the  boat !  "  On  this, 
Basil  had  the  incredible  weakness  to  yield;  and 
bade  tlie  driver  take  them  to  the  Worcester  Depot. 
It  was  the  first  swerving  from  the  ideal  in  their 
wedding  journey,  but  it  was  by  no  means  the  last ; 
though  it  must  be  confessed  that  it  was  early  to 
begin. 

They  both  felt  more  tranquil  when  they  were 
irretrievably  committed  by  the  purchase  of  their 
tickets,  and  when  they  sat  down  in  the  waiting- 
room  of  the  station,  with  all  the  time  between 
seven  and  nine  o'clock  before  them.  Basil  would 
have  eked  out  the  business  of  checking  the  trunks 
into  an  affair  of  some  length,  but  the  baggage-mas- 
ter did  his  duty  with  pitiless  celerity  ;  and  so  Ba- 
sil, in  the  mere  excess  of  his  disoccupation,  bought 
an  accident-insurance  ticket.  This  employed  him 
half  a  minute,  and  then  he  gave  up  the  unequal 
contest,  and  went  and  took  his  place  beside  Isabel, 
who  sat  prettily  wrapped  in  her  shawl,  perfectly 
content. 

"  Isn't  it  charming,"  she  said  gayly,  "  having  to 
wait  so  long  ?  It  puts  me  in  mind  of  some  of  those 
other  journeys  we  took  together.  But  I  can't 
think  of  those  times  with  any  patience,  when  we 
might  really  have  had  each  other,  and  didn't ! 
Do  you  remember  how  long  we  had  to  wait  at 
Chambdry  ?  and  the  numbers  of  military  gentlemen 
that  waited  too,  with  their  little  waists,  and  their 


THE  OUTSET. 


kisses  when  they  met  ?  and  that  poor  married  mili- 
tary gentleman,  with  the  plain  wife  and  the  two 
children,  and  a  tarnished  uniform  ?  He  seemed  to 
be  somehow  in  misfortune,  and  his  mustache  hung 
down  in  such  a  spiritless  way,  while  all  the  other 
military  mustaches  about  curled  and  bristled  with 
BO  much  boldness.  I  think  nalles  ofattente  every- 
where are  delightful ,  and  there  is  such  a  commun- 
ity of  interest  in  them  all,  that  when  I  come  here 
only  to  go  out  to  Brookline,  I  feel  myself  a  travel- 
ler once  more,  —  a  blessed  stranger  in  a  strange 
land.  O  dear,  Basil,  those  were  happy  times  after 
all,  when  we  might  have  had  each  other  and 
didn't !  And  now  we're  the  more  precious  foi  hav 
ing  been  so  long  lost." 

She  drew  closer  and  closer  to  him,  and  looked  at 
him  in  a  way  that  threatened  betrayal  of  her  bri- 
dal character. 

"  Isabel,  you  will  be  havmg  your  head  on  my 
shoulder,  next,"  said  he. 

"  Never  !  "  she  answered  fiercely,  recovering  her 
distance  with  a  start.  '*  But,  dearest,  if  you  do  see 
me  going  to  —  act  absurdly,  you  know,  do  stop 
me." 

"  I'm  very  sorry,  but  I've  got  myself  to  stop. 
Besides,  I  didn't  undertake  to  preserve  the  incog- 
nito of  this  bridal  party." 

If  any  accident  of  the  sort  dreaded  had  really 
happened,  it  would  not  have  mattered  so  much,  for 
as  yet  they  were  the  sole  occupants  of  the  waiting- 


r 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


:!M 


room.     To  be  sure,  the  ticket-seller  was  there,  and 
the  lady  who  checked  packages  left  in  her  charge  ; 


.rf 


W^.^ 


. .     r->    >. 


.VC^.L   ';S^   "   ' 


but  these  must   have   seen   so  many  endearments  ' 
pass  between  passengers,  that  a  fleeting  caress  or 


THE   OUTSET. 


d 


two  would  scarcely  have  drawn  their  notice  to  our 
pair.  Yet  Isabel  did  not  so  riiuch  even  as  put  Ikt 
hand  into  her  husband's  ;  and  as  Basil  afterwards 
said,  it  was  very  good  practice. 

Our  temporary  state,  whatever  it  is,  is  often 
mirrored  in  all  that  come  near  us,  and  our  frituids 
were  fated  to  meet  frequent  parodies  of  their  iiap- 
piness  from  first  to  last  on  this  journey.  The  trav- 
esty bi'gan  with  the  very  first  people  who  entered 
the  waiting-room  after  themselves,  and  who  were  a 
very  young  couple  starting  like  themselves  uj)on  a 
pleasure  tour,  which  also  was  evidently  one  of  the 
first  tours  of  any  kind  that  they  had  made.  It  was 
of  modest  extent,  and  comprised  going  to  New 
York  and  back  ;  but  they  talked  of  it  with  a  flut- 
tered and  joyful  expectation  as  if  it  were  a  voyage 
to  Europe.  Presently  there  appeared  a  burlesque 
of  their  happiness  (but  with  a  touch  of  tragedy) 
in  that  kind  of  young  man  who  is  called  by  the  fe- 
•  males  of  his  class  a  fellow,  and  two  young  women 
of  that  kind  known  to  him  as  girls.  He  took  a 
place  between  these,  and  presently  began  a  robust 
flirtation  with  one  of  them.  He  possessed  himself, 
after  a  brief  struggle,  of  her  parasol,  and  twirled  it 
about,  as  he  uttered,  with  a  sort  of  tender  rude- 
ness, inconceivable  vapidities,  such  as  you  would 
expect  from  none  but  a  man  of  the  highest  fashion. 
The  girl  thus  courted  became  selfishly  unconscious 
of  everything  but  her  own  joy,  and  made  no  at- 
tempt to  bring  the  other  girl  within  its  warmth. 


10 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


but  left  her  to  languish  forgotten  on  the  other  side. 
The  latter  sometimes  leaned  forward,  and  tried  to 
divert  a  little  of  the  flirtation  to  herself,  but  the 
flirters  snubbed  her  with  short  answers,  and  pres- 
ently she  gjive  up  and  sat  still  in  the  sad  patience 
of  uncourted  women.  In  this  attitude  she  became 
a  burden  to  Isabel,  who  was  glad  when  the  three 
took  themselves  away,  and  were  succeeded  by  a 
very  stylish  couple  —  from  New  York,  she  knew  as 
well  as  if  they  had  given  her  their  address  on  West 
999th  Street.  The  lady  was  not  pretty,  and  she 
was  not,  Isabel  thought,  dressed  in  the  perfect  taste 
of  Hoston  ;  but  she  owned"  frankly  to  herself  that 
the  New-Yorkeress  was  stylish,  undeniably  effective. 
The  gentleman  bought  a  ticket  for  New  York,  and 
remained  at  the  window  of  the  office  talking  quite 
easily  with  the  seller. 

"  You  couldn't  do  that,  my  poor  Basil,"  said 
Isabel,  "  you'd  be  afraid." 

"  O  dear,  yes ;  I'm  only  too  glad  to  get  off  Avith- 
out  browbeating  ;  though  I  must  say  that  this  offi- 
cer looks  affable  enough.  Really,"  he  added,  as  an 
acquaintance  of  the  ticket-seller  came  in  and  nod- 
ded to  him  and  said  '*  Hot,  to-day  I  "  "  this  is  very 
strange.  I  always  felt  as  if  these  men  had  no  pri- 
vate life,  no  friendships  like  the  rest  of  us.  On 
duty  they  seem  so  like  sovereigns,  set  apart  from 
mankind,  and  above  us  all,  that  it 's  quite  incredible 
they  should  have  the  common  personal  relations." 

At  intervals  of  their  talk  and  silence  there  came 


THE  OUTSET. 


11 


vivid  flashes  of  lightning  and  quite  heavy  shocks  of 
thunder,  very  consoling  to  our  friends,  wlio  took 
them  as  so  many  compliments  to  their  prudence  in 
not  going  by  the  boat,  and  who  had  secret  doubts 
of  their  wisdom  whenever  these  acknowledgments 
were  "Nvithheld.  Isabel  went  so  far  as  to  say  that 
she  hoped  nothing  would  happen  to  the  boat,  but  I 
think  she  would  cheerfully  have  learnt  tluit  the 
vessel  had  been  obliged  to  put  back  to  Newport,  on 
account  of  the  storm,  or  even  that  it  had  been 
driven  ashore  at  a  perfectly  safe  place. 

People  constantly  came  and  went  in  the  waiting- 
room,  which  was  sometimes  quite  full,  and  again 
empty  of  all  but  themselves.  In  the  course  of 
their  observations  they  formed  many  cordial  friend- 
ships and  bitter  enmities  upon  tlie  ground  of  per- 
sonal appearance,  or  particulars  of  dress,  with  peo- 
ple whom  they  saw  for  half  a  minute  upon  an 
average ;  and  they  took  such  a  keen  interest  in 
every  one,  that  it  would  be  hard  to  say  whether 
they  were  more  concerned  in  an  old  gentleman 
with  vigorously  upright  iron-gray  hair,  who  sat 
fronting  them,  and  reading  all  the  evening  papers, 
or  a  young  man  who  hurled  himself  through  the 
door,  bought  a  ticket  with  terrific  precipitation, 
burst  out  again,  and  then  ran  down  a  departing 
train  before  it  got  out  of  the  station  :  they  loved 
the  old  gentleman  for  a  certain  stubborn  benevo- 
lence of  expression,  and  if  they  had  been  friends 
of  the  young  man  and  his  family  for  generations, 


12 


THEIR   WFDDING  JOURNEY. 


i:al 


and  fi^lt  bound  if  any  harm  befell  him  to  go  and 
break  t\n\  news  gently  to  his  parents,  their  nerves 
could  not  have  been  more  intimately  wrouglit  upoii 
by  his  hazardous  behavior.  Still,  as  they  had  their 
tickets  for  New  York,  and  he  was  going  out  on  a 
merely  local  train,  —  to  Hrookline,  I  believe,  — 
they  could  not,  even  in  their  anxiety,  repress  a  feel- 
ing of  contempt  for  his  unambitious  destination. 

They  were  already  as  completely  cut  off  from 
local  associations  and  sympathies  as  if  they  were  a 
thousand  miles  and  many  months  away  from  Hos- 
ton.  They  enjoyed  the  lonely  flaring  of  the  gas- 
jets  as  a  gust  of  wind  drew  through  the  station ; 
they  shared  the  gloom  and  isolation  of  a  man  who 
took  a  seat  in  the  darkest  corner  of  the  room,  and 
sat  there  with  folded  arms,  the  genius  of  absence. 
In  the  patronizing  spirit  of  travellers  in  a  foreign 
counti-y  they  noted  and  approved  the  vases  of  cut- 
flowers  in  the  booth  of  the  lady  who  checked  pack- 
ages, and  the  pots  of  ivy  in  her  windows.  "  These 
poor  Bostonians,"  they  said,  "have  some  love  of 
the  beautiful  in  their  rugged  natures." 
•  But  after  all  was  said  and  thought,  it  was  only 
eight  o'clock,  and  they  still  had  an  hour  to  wait. 

Basil  grew  restless,  and  Isabel  said,  with  a  sub- 
tile inter{)retation  of  his  uneasiness,  "/  don't  want 
anything  to  eat,  Basil,  but  I  think  I  know  the 
weaknesses  of  men ;  and  you  had  better  go  and 
pass  the  next  half -hour  over  a  plate  of  something 
indigestible." 


THE   OUTSET. 


13 


This  was  said  con  stizza,  the  least  little  sugges- 
tion of  it ;  but  Basil  rose  with  shameful  alacrity. 
"•  Darling,  if  it 's  your  wish  *"  — 

"  It 's  my  fate,  Basil,"  said  Isabel.  n 

—  "  I'll  go,"  he  exclaimed,  "  because  it  isn't 
bridal,  and  will  help  us  to  pass  for  old  married 
people." 

"  No,  no,  Basil,  be  honest ;  fibbing  isn't  your 
forte  :  I  wonder  you  went  into  the  insurance  busi- 
ness ;  you  ought  to  have  been  a  lawyer.  Go 
because  you  like  eating,  and  are  hungry,  perhaps, 
or  think  you  may  be  so  before  we  get  to  New  York. 
I  shall  amuse  myself  well  enough  here." 

I  suppose  it  is  always  a  little  shocking  and  griev- 
ous to  a  "ivife  when  she  recognizes  a  rival  in  butch- 
ers'-meat  and  the  vegetables  of  the  season.  With 
her  slender  relishes  for  pastry  and  confectionery, 
and  her  dainty  habits  of  lunching,  she  cannot  rec- 
oncile with  the  ideal  her  husband's  capacity  for 
breakfasting,  dining,  supping,  and  hot  meals  at  all 
hours  of  the  day  and  night  —  as  they  write  it  on 
the  sign-boards  of  barbaric  eating-houses.  But 
Isabel  would  have  only  herself  to  blame  if  she  had 
not  perceived  this  trait  of  Basil's  before  marriage. 
She  recurred  now,  as  his  figure  disappeared  down 
the  station,  to  memorable  instances  of  his  appetite 
in  their  European  travels  during  their  first  engage- 
ment. "  Yes,  he  ate  terribly  at  Susa,  when  I  was 
too  full  of  the  notion  of  getting  into  Italy  to  care 
for  bouillon  and  cold  roast   chicken.     At  Rome  I 


14 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


thought  I  must  break  with  him  on  account  of  the 
wild-boar ;  and  at  Heidelberg,  the  sausage  and  the 
ham  I  —  how  could  he,  in  my  presence  ?  But  I 
took  hiin  with  all  his  faults,  ^and  was  glad  to  get 
him,"  she  added,   ending  her   meditation   with   a 


IH 


little  burst  of  candor ;  and  she  did  not  even  think 
of  Basil's  appetite  when  he  reappeared, 

With  the  thronging  of  many  sorts  of  people,  in 
parties  and  singly,  into  the  waiting  room,  they  be- 
came once  again  mere  observers  of  their  kind,  more 
or  less  critical  in  temper,  until  the  crowd  grew  so 


THE  OUTSET. 


15 


that  individual  traits  were  merged  in  the  character 
of  multitude.  Even  then,  they  could  catch  glimpses 
of  faces  so  sweet  or  fine  that  they  made  themselves 
felt  like  moments  of  repose  in  the  tumult,  and  here 
and  there  was  something  so  grotesque  in  dress  or 
manner  that  it  showed  distinct  from  the  rest.  The 
ticket-seller's  stamp  clicked  incessantly  as  he  sold 
tickets  to  all  points  South  and  West :  to  New 
'V  ork,  Philadelphia,  Charleston ;  to  New  Orleans, 
Chicago,  Omaha ;  to  St.  Paul,  Duluth,  St.  Louis  ; 
and  it  would  not  have  been  hard  to  find  in  that 
anxious  bustle,  that  unsmiling  eagerness,  an  image 
of  the  whole  busy  affair  of  life.  It  was  not  a  par- 
ticularly sane  spectacle,  that  impatience  to  be  off 
to  some  j)lace  that  lay  not  only  in  the  distance,  but 
also  in  the  future  —  to  which  no  line  of  road  carries 
you  with  absolute  certainty  across  an  interval  of 
time  full  of  every  imaginable  chance  and  influence. 
It  is  easy  enough  to  bity  a  ticket  to  Cincinnati,  but 
it  is  somewhat  harder  to  an-ive  there.  Say  that 
all  goes  well,  is  it  exactly  you  who  an'ive  ? 

In  the  midst  of  the  disquiet  there  entered  at  last 
an  old  woman,  so  very  infirm  that  she  had  to  be 
upheld  on  either  hand  by  her  husband  and  the 
hackman  who  had  brought  them,  while  a  young 
girl  went  before  -with  shawls  and  pillows  which  she 
arranged  upon  the  seat.  There  the  invalid  lay 
doNvn,  and  turned  towards  the  crowd  a  white,  suffer- 
ing face,  which  was  yet  so  heavenly  meek  and 
peaceful  that  it  comforted  whoever   looked  at  it. 


16 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


In  spirit  our  happy  friends  bowed  themselves  before 
it  and  owned  that  there  was  something  better  than 
happiness  in  it. 

*^  What  is  it  like,  Isabel  ?  " 

**  O,  I  don't  know,  darling,"  she  said  ;  but  she 
thought,  "  Perhaps  it  is  like  some  blessed  sorrow 
that  takes  us  out  of  this  prison  of  a  world,  and  sets 
us  free  of  our  e very-day  liates  and  desires,  our 
aims,  our  fears,  ourselves.  Maybe  a  long  and  mor- 
tal sickness  might  come  to  wear  such  a  face  in  one 
of  us  two,  and  the  other  could  see  it,  and  not  regret 
the  poor  mask  of  youth  and  pretty  looks  that  had 
fallen  away." 

She  rose  and  went  over  to  the  sick  woman,  on 
whose  face  beamed  a  tender  smile,  as  Isabel  spoke 
to  her.  A  chord  thrilled  in  two  lives  hitherto  un- 
known to  each  other ;  but  what  was  said  Basil 
would  not  ask  when  the  invalid  had  taken  Isabel's 
hand  between  her  own,  as  for  adieu,  and  she  came 
back  to  his  side  with  swimming  eyes.  Perhaps  his 
wife  could  have  given  no  good  reason  for  her  emo- 
tion, if  he  had  asked  it.  But  it  made  her  very 
sweet  and  dear  to  him  ;  and  I  suppose  that  when  a 
tolerably  unselfish  man  is  once  secure  of  a  woman's 
love,  he  is  ordinarily  more  affected  by  her  compas- 
sion and  tenderness  for  other  objects  than  by  her 
feelings  towards  himself.  He  likes  well  enough  to 
think,  "  She  loves  me,"  but  still  better,  "  How  kind 
and  good  she  is  !  " 

They  lost  sight  of  the  invalid   in  the  hurry  of 


THE   OUTSKT. 


17 


getting  places  on  tlio  cars,  and  they  never  saw  her 
again.  The  man  at  the  wicket-gate  leading  to  the 
train  had  thrown  it  up,  and  the  people  were  press- 
ing furiously  tlirough  as  if  their  lives  hung  upon 
the  chance  of  instant  passage.  Basil  had  secured 
his  ticket  for  the  sleeping-car,  and  so  he  and  Isabel 
stood  aside  and  watched  the  tumult.  When  the 
rush  was  over  they  passed  through,  and  as  they 
walked  up  and  down  the  platform  beside  the  train, 
"  I  was  thinking,"  said  Isabel,  "  after  I  spoke  to 
that  poor  old  lady,  of  what  Clara  Williams  says  : 
that  she  wonders  the  happiest  women  in  the  world 
can  look  each  other  in  the  face  Avithout  bursting 
into  tears,  tlieir  happiness  is  so  unreasonable,  and  so 
built  upon  and  hedged  about  with  misery.  She 
decjlares  that  there 's  nothing  so  sad  to  her  as  a 
bridt%  unless  it 's  a  young  mother,  or  a  little  girl 
growing  up  in  the  innocent  gayety  of  her  heart. 
She  wonders  they  can  live  through  it." 

"  Clara  is  very  much  of  a  reformer,  and  would 
make  an  end  of  all  of  us  men,  I  suppose,  —  except 
her  father,  who  supports  her  in  the  leisure  that  en- 
ables her  to  do  her  deep  thinking.  She  little 
knows  what  we  poor  fellows  have  to  suffer,  and 
how  often  we  break  down  in  business  hours,  and 
sob  upon  one  another's  necks.  Did  that  old  lady 
talk  to  you  in  the  same  strain  ?  " 

"0  no !  she  spoke  very  calmly  of  her  sickness, 
and  said  she  had  lived  a  blessed  life.     Perhaps  it 


18 


TIIKIR   WF.DDING  .lOURXKY. 


was  that  made  me  slied  those  few  small  tears.  She 
seemed  a  very  religious  person." 

*'  Yes,"  said  Basil,  "  it  is  almost  a  pity  that  relij,'- 
ion  is  going  out.  liut  then  you  are  to  have  the 
franehise." 

"All  aboard!" 

This  warning  cry  saved  him  from  wliatever  her- 
esy lie  might  have  been  about  to  utter  ;  and  pres- 
ently the  train  carried  them  out  into  tlie  gas- 
sprinkled  darkness,  with  an  ever-growing  speed  that 
soon  left  the  city  lamps  far  behind.  It  is  a  phe- 
nomenon whose  commonness  alone  prevents  it  from 
being  most  impressive,  that  departure  of  the  night- 
jex})ress.  The  two  hundred  miles  it  is  to  travel 
stretch  before  it,  traced  by  those  shunder  clews,  to 
lose  which  is  ruin,  and  about  which  haiit'  so  many 
dangers.  The  draw-bridges'  that  ga[)e  upon  the 
way,  the  trains  that  stand  smoking  and  steaming 
on  the  track,  the  rail  that  has  borne  the  wear  so 
long  that  it  must  soon  snap  under  it,  the  deep  cut 
where  the  overhanjjinj;  mass  of  rock  trembles  to  its 
fall,  the  obstruction  that  a  pitiless  malice  may  have 
placed  in  your  path,  —  you  think  of  these  after 
the  journey  is  done,  but  they  seldom  haunt  your 
fancy  while  it  lasts.  The  knowledge  of  your  help- 
lessness in  any  circumstances  is  so  perfect  that  it 
begets  a  sense  of  irresponsibility,  almost  of  secu- 
rity ;  and  as  you  drowse  upon  the  pallet  of  the  sleep- 
ing car,  and  feel  yourself  hurled  forward  through 
the   obscurity,  you  are   almost  thanldul   that  you 


THK   OUTSKT. 


19 


ran  do  notliiiig,  for  it  is  upon  this  condition  only 
tiiJit  you  (.'jin  enduro  it  ;  and  some  sucli  condition 
as  this,  I  suppose,  accounts  lor  many  iieroic  facts 
in  tiic  worUl.  To  the  fantastic  mood  whicli  pos- 
sesses you  eiiujiliy,  sleejjing  or  waking,  the  stop- 
])ag«'s  of  tlie  train  luive  a  weird  character  ;  and 
Worcester,  Springlield,  New  Haven,  and  Stamford 
are  ratiu'r  points  in  dream-hmd  than  well-lcnown 
towns  of  New  Enghmd.  As  tiie  train  stops  you 
drowse  if  you  luive  been  waking,  and  wake  if  you 
liave  been  in  a  doze  ;  but  in  any  case  you  are  aware 
of  the  locomotive  liissing  and  cougliing  beyond  the 
station,  of  flaring  gas-jets,  of  clattering  feet  of  pas- 
sengers getting  on  and  off  ;  then  of  some  one,  con- 
ductor or  statitm-master,  wallcing  the  whole  length 
of  the  train  ;  and  tiu'n  you  are  aware  of  an  insane 
S'ltisfaction  in  renewed  flight  through  tlie  darkness. 
You  tliink  hazily  of  the  folk  in  their  beds  in  the 
town  left  behind,  avIio  stir  uneasily  at  the  soimd  of 
your  train's  departing  whistle  ;  and  so  all  is  a  blank 
vigil  or  a  blank  slumber. 

By  daylight  Basil  and  Isabel  found  themselves 
at  opposite  ends  of  the  car,  struggling  severally 
with  the  problem  of  the  morning's  toilet.  When 
the  combat  was  ended,  they  were  surprised  at  the 
decency  of  their  appearance,  and  Isabel  said,  "•  I 
•think  I'm  presentable  to  an  early  Broadway  pub- 
lic, and  I've  a  fancy  for  not  going  to  a  liotel.  Lucy 
will  be  expecting  us  out  there  before  noon  ;  and  we 
can  pass  the  time  pleasantly  enough  for  a  few  hours 


20 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


just  wandering   about." 


She  was  a  woman  who 
loved  any  cheap  de- 
liance  of  custom,  and 
she  had  an  agreeable 
sense  of  adventure  m 
what  she  proposed.  Be- 
sides, she  felt  that  noth- 
ing could  be  more  in 
the  unconventional  spir- 
it in  which  they  meant 
to  make  their  whole 
journey  than  a  stroll 
about  New  York  at  half- 
past  six  in  the  morning. 
"  Delightful  !  "  an- 
swered Basil,  who  was 
always  charmed  with 
these  small  originalities. 
''  You  look  well  enough 
for  an  evening  party ; 
and  besides,  you  won't 
meet  one  of  your  own 
critical  class  on  Broad- 
way at  this  hour.  We 
Avill  breakfast  at  one  of 
those  gilded  metropol- 
,  itan  restaurants,  and,, 
then  go  round  to  Leonard's,  who  will  be  able  to 
give  us  just  three  unhurried  seconds.  After  that 
we'll  push  on  out  to  his  place." 


THE   OUTSET. 


21 


At  that  early  hour  there  were  not  many  people 
astir  on  the  wide  avenue  down  which  our  friends 
strolled  when  they  left  the  station  ;  but  in  the  aspect 
of  those  they  saw  there  was  something  that  told  of 
a  greater  heat  than  they  had  yet  kno^vn  in  Boston, 
and  they  were  sensible  of  having  reached  a  more 
southern  latitude.  The  air,  though  freshened  by 
the  over-night's  storm,  still  wanted  the  briskness 
and  sparkle  and  pungency  of  the  Boston  air,  which 
is  as  delicious  in  summer  as  it  is  terrible  in  winter  ; 
and  the  faces  that  showed  themselves  were  sodden 
from  the  yesterday's  heat  and  perspiration.  A 
corner-grocer,  seated  in  a  sort  of  fierce  despondency 
upon  a  keg  near  his  shop  door,  had  lightly  equipped 
himself  for  the  struggle  of  the  day  in  the  battered 
armor  of  the  day  before,  and  in  a  pair  of  roomy 
pantaloons,  and  a  baggy  shirt  of  neutral  tint, — 
perhaps  he  had  made  a  vow  not  to  change  it  whilst 
the  siege  of  the  hot  weather  lasted,  —  now  con- 
fronted the  advancing  sunlight,  before  which  the 
long  shadows  of  the  buildings  were  slowly  retiring. 
A  marketing  mother  of  a  family  paused  at  a  pro- 
vision-store, and  looking  weakly  in  at  the  white- 
aproned  butcher  among  his  meats  and  flies,  passed 
without  an  effort  to  purchase.  Hurried  and  wearied 
shop-girls  tripped  by  in  the  draperies  that  betrayed 
their  sad  necessity  to  be  both  fine  and  shabby  ;  from 
a  boarding-house  door  issued  briskly  one  of  those 
cool  young  New  Yorkers  whom  no  circumstances 
can  oppress :   breezy-coated,  white-linened,  clean, 


J(n 


i  f 


II 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


with  a  good  cigar  in  the  mouth,  a  light  cane  caught 
upon  the  elbow  of  one  of  the  arms  holding  up  the 
paper  from  which  the  morning's  news  is  snatched, 


whilst  the  person  sways  lightly  with  the  walk ;  in 
the  street-cars  that  slowly  tinkled  up  and  down  were 
rows  of  people  with  baskets  between  their  legs  and 


■mi 


THE  outsp:t. 


23 


papers  before  tlicir  faces  ;  and  all  showed  l)y  some 
peculiarity  of  air  or  dress  the  excess  of  heat  which 
they  had  already  borne,  and  to  which  they  seemed 
to  look  forward,  and  <»:ave  bv  the  scantiness  of  their 
number  a  vivid  impression  of  the  uncounted  thou- 
sands within  doors  prolonging,  before  the  day's 
terror  began,  the  oblivion  of  sleep. 

As  they  turned  into  one  of  the  numerical  streets 
to  cross  to  Uroadway,  and  found  themselves  in  a  yet 
deeper  seclusion,  Basil  began  to  utter  in  a  musing 
tone  :  — 

"  A  city  against  tlie  '.orlil's  jiniy  Prime, 
Lost  ill  suiiR'  tiosLTt,  f'iir  fiuiii  'rime, 
WIkto  iioi.M'Icss  A;;cs  jiliiiiii^"  tiiroiiyli, 
Il.'.v^;  only  sittcii  siiiids  and  (U-w, — 
Yet  still  a  niai'hlo  liiuidof  man 
Lyin;;-  on  all  the  haunted  plan  ; 
The  passions  of  the  hiiniaii  lu-art 
lii'atiii;^'  till'  inarlilc  Invast  of  Art, — 
Wfir  not  more  lone  to  one  who  first 
Upon  its  ;;iant  silence  hiirsf, 
'I'haii  this  siran;;e  (|niet,  where  the  tide 
Of  life,  upheaved  on  either  side, 
Ilaii;;s  treml)liny:,  ready  soon  to  heat 
With  human  waves  the  Morninj^  Street." 

"  TIow  lovely  I  "  said  Isabel,  swiftly  catchinix  at 
her  skirt,  and  deftly  escaping  contact  with  one  of  a 
long  row  of  ash-barrels  posted  sentinel-like  on  the 
edge  of  the  pavement.     "•  Whose  is  it,  Basil  ?  " 

"•  Ah  !  a  poet's,"  answered  her  husband,  "  a  man 
of  whom  we  shall  one  day  any  of  us  be  glad  to  say 
that  we  liked  him  before  he  was  famous.     What  a 


24 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


1: 


nebulous  sweetness  the  first  lines  have,  and  what  a 
clear,  cool  light  of  day-break  in  the  last !  " 

"  You  could  have  been  as  good  a  poet  as  that, 
Basil,"  said  the  ever-personal  and  concretely-speak- 
ing Isabel,  who  could  not  look  at  a  mountain  with- 
out thinking  what  Basil  might  have  done  in  that 
wav,  if  he  had  tried.  ' 

*'  O  no,  I  couldn't,  dear.  It 's  very  difficult  being 
any  poet  at  all,  though  it's  easy  to  be  like  one.  But 
I've  done  with  it ;  I  broke  with  the  Muse  the  day 
you  accepted  me.  She  came  into  my  office,  looking 
so  shabby,  —  not  unlike  one  of  those  poor  shop- 
girls ;  and  as  I  was  very  well  dressed  from  having 
just  been  to  see  you,  Avhy,  you  know,  I  felt  the  dif- 
ference. '  Well,  my  dear  ? '  said  I,  not  quite  liking 
the  look  of  reproach  she  was  giving  me.  '  You  are 
going  to  leave  me,'  she  answered  sadly.  '  Well, 
yes ;  I  suppose  I  must.  You  see  the  insurance  busi- 
ness is  very  absorbing ;  and  besides,  it  lias  a  bad 
appearance,  you're  coming  about  so  in  office  hours, 
and  in  those  clothes.'  '  O,'  she  moaned  out,  '  you 
used  to  welcome  me  at  all  times,  out  in  the  country, 
and  thought  me  prettily  dressed.'  *  Yes,  yes  ;  but 
this  is  Boston  ;  and  Boston  makes  a  greiit  difference 
in  one's  ideas  ;  and  I'm  going  to  be  married,  too. 
Come,  I  don't  want  to  seem  ungrateful ;  we  have 
had  many  pleasant  times  together,  I  own  it ;  and 
I've  no  objections  to  your  being  present  at  Christ- 
mas and  Thanksgiving  and  birthdays,  but  really  I 
must  draw  the  line  there.'     She  gave  me  a  look 


THE  OUTSET. 


25 


that  made  my  heart  ache,  and  -went  straight  to 
my  desk  and  took  out  of  a  pigeon-hole  a  lot  of  pa- 
pers, —  odes  upon  your  cruelty,  Isabel ;  songs  to 
you  ;  sonnets,  —  the  sonnet,  a  mighty  poor  one,  I  'd 
made  the  day  before,  —  and  threw  them  all  into  the 
grate.  Then  she  turnetl  to  me  again,  signed  adieu 
with  mute  lips,  and  passed  out.  I  could  hear  the 
bottom  wire  of  the  poor  thing's  hoop-skirt  clicking 
against  each  step  of  the  stairway,  as  she  went 
slowly  and  heavily  down  to  the  street." 

"O  don't  —  dorCt^  Basil,"  said  his  wife,  "it 
seems  like  something  wrong.  I  think  you  ought  to 
have  bnen  ashamed." 

"  Ashamed  !  I  was  heart-broken.  But  it  had 
to  come  to  that.  As  I  got  hopeful  about  you,  the 
Muse  became  a  sad  bore ;  and  more  than  once  I 
found  myself  smiling  at  her  when  her  back  was 
turned.  The  Muse  doesn't  like  being  laughed  at 
any  more  than  another  woman  would,  and  she 
would  have  left  me  shortly.  No,  I  couldn't  be  a 
poet  like  our  Morning-Street  friend.  But  see  !  the 
human  wave  is  beginning  to  sprinkle  the  pavement 
with  cooks  and  second-girls." 

They  were  frowzy  serving-maids  and  silent ; 
each  swept  down  her  own  door  steps  and  the  pave- 
ment in  front  of  her  own  house,  and  then  knocked 
her  broom  on  the  curbstone  and  vanished  into  the 
house,  on  which  the  hand  of  change  had  already 
f  I'len.  It  Avas  no  longer  a  street  solely  devoted  to 
the  domestic  gods,  but  had  been  invaded  at  more 


1^ 


*      I 


26 


THi: IR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


than  one  point  by  the  busthng  deities  of  business  : 
in  such  streets  the  irreguUir,  inspired  doctors  and 
doctresses  come  first  with  inordinate  door-plates ; 
then  a  miUiner  filling  the  parlor  window  with  new 
bonnets  ;  here  even  a  jjublisher  had  hung  his  sign 
beside  a  door,  through  which  the  feet  of  young 
ladies  used  to  trip,  and  the  feet  of  little  children  to 
patter.  Here  and  there  stood  groups  of  dwcdlings 
unmolested  as  yet  outwardly  ;  but  even  these  had 
a  certain  careworn  and  guilty  air,  as  if  they  knew 
themselves  to  be  cheapish  boarding-houses  or  fur- 
nished lodgings  for  gentlemen,  and  were  trying  to 
hide  it.  To  these  belonged  the  frowzy  serving- 
women  ;  to  these  the  rows  of  ash-barrels,  in  which 
the  decrepit  children  and  mothers  of  the  streets 
were  clawing  for  bits  of  coal. 

By  the  time  Basil  and  Isabel  reached  Broadway 
there  were  already  some  omnibuses  beginning  their 
long  day's  travel  up  and  down  the  handsome,  tire- 
some length  of  that  avenue  ;  but  for  the  most  part 
it  wjis  empty.  There  was,  of  course,  a  hurry  of 
foot-passengers  upon  the  sidewalks,  but  these  were 
sparse  and  uncharacteristic,  for  New  York  proper 
was  still  fast  asleep.  The  waiter  at  the  restaurant 
into  which  our  friends  stepped  w^as  so  well  aware 
of  this,  and  so  perfectly  assured  they  were  not  of 
the  city,  that  he  could  not  forbear  a  little  patron- 
age of  them,  which  they  did  not  resent.  He 
brought  Basil  what  he  had  ordered  in  barbaric 
abundance,  and  charged  for  it  with  barbaric  splen- 


THK   OUTSICT. 


27 


dor.  It  is  all  but  impossible  not  to  wish  to  stand 
well  witli  your  waiter  :  1  have  myself  been  often 
treated  with  conspicuous  rudeness  by  the  tribe,  yet 
I  liave  never  been  able  to  witldiokl  the  doweur 
that  marked  me  for  a  gentleman  in  their  eyes,  and 
entitled  me  to  tlieir  dishonorable  esteem,  liasil 
was  not  superior  to  this  folly,  and  left  the  waiter 
Avith  the  conviction  that,  if  he  was  not  a  New 
Yorker,  he  was  a  high-bred  man  of  the  world  at 
any  rate. 

Vexed  by  a  seuvse  of  his  own  pitifulness,  this 
man  of  the  world  continued  his  pilgrimage  down 
Broadway,  which  even  in  that  desert  state  was  full 
of  a  certain  interest.  Troops  of  laborers  straggled 
along  the  pavements,  each  with  his  diinier-j)ail  in 
hand  ;  and  in  many  places  the  eternal  building  up 
and  i)ulling  down  Avas  already  goin'g  on  ;  carts 
were  struggling  up  the  slopes  of  vast  cellars,  with 
loads  of  distracting  rubbish  ;  here  stood  the  half- 
demolished  walls  of  a  house,  with  a  sad  variety  of 
wall-])aper  showing  in  the  different  rcfoms ;  there 
clinked  the  trowel  upon  the  brick,  yonder  the  ham- 
mer on  the  stone  ;  overhead  swung  and  threatened 
the  marble  block  that  the  derrick  was  lifting  to  its 
place.  As  yet  these  forces  of  demolition  and  con- 
struction had  the  business  of  the  street  almost  to 
themselves. 

"•  Why,  how  shabby  the  street  is  I  "  said  Isjibel, 
at  last.  "  When  I  landed,  after  being  abroad,  I 
remember  that  Broadway  impressed  me  with  its 
splendor.'' 


28 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


IH    u>i 


*'  Ah  !  but  you  were  merely  coming  from  Eu- 
rope tlien  ;  and  now  you  arrive  from  Boston,  and 
are  contrasting  this  poor  Broadway  with  Wasliing- 
ton  Street.  Don't  be  hard  upon  it,  Isabel  ;  every 
street  can't  be  a  Boston  street,  you  know,"  said 
Basil,  'sabel,  herself  a  Bostonian  of  great  in- 
tensity both  by  birth  and  conviction,  believed  her 
husband  the  only  man  able  to  have  thoroughly 
baffled  the  malignity  of  the  stars  in  causing  him 
to  be  born  out  of  Boston  ;  yet  he  sometimes  trifled 
with  his  hardly  achieved  triumph,  and  even  showed 
an  indifference  to  it,  with  an  insincerity  of  which 
there  can  be  no  doubt  whatever. 

"  O  stuff !  "  she  retorted,  "  as  if  I  had  any  of 
that  silly  local  pride  !  Though  you  know  well 
enough  that  Boston  is  the  best  place  in  the  world. 
But  Basil !  1  suppose  Broadway  strikes  us  as  so 
line,  on  coming  ashore  from  Europe,  because  we 
hardly  expect  anything  of  America  then." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.  Perhaps  the  street  has 
some  positive  grandeur  of  its  own,  though  it  needs 
a  multitude  of  people  in  it  to  bring  out  its  best 
effects.  I'll  allow  its  disheartening  shabbiness  and 
meanness  in  many  ways  ;  but  to  stand  in  front  of 
Grace  Church,  on  a  clear  day,  —  a  day  of  late 
September,  say,  —  and  look  down  the  swarming 
length  of  Broadway,  on  the  movement  and  the 
numbers,  while  the  Niagara  roar  swelled  and 
swelled  from  those  human  rapids,  was  always  like 
strong  new  wine  to  me.     I  don't  think  the  world 


^i 


THE  OUTSET. 


29 


affords  such  another  sight ;  and  for  one  moment,  at 
such  times,  I'd  have  been  willing  to  be  an  Irish 
councilman,  that  I  might  have  some  right  to  the 
pride  I  felt  in  the  capital  of  the  Irish  Republic. 
What  a  fine  thing  it  must  be  for  each  victim  of  six 
centuries  of  oppression  to  reflect  that  he  owns  at 
least  a  dozen  Americans,  and  that,  with  his  fellows, 
he  rules  a  hundred  helpless  millionaires  I  " 

Like  all  daughters  of  a  free  country,  Isabel 
knew  nothing  about  politics,  and  she  felt  that  she 
was  getting  into  deep  water  ;  she  answered  buoy- 
antly, but  she  was  glad  to  make  her  weariness  the 
occasion  of  hailing  a  stage,  and  changing  the  con- 
versation. The  farther  down  to^vn  they  went  the 
busier  the  street  grew  ;  and  about  the  Astor  House, 
where  they  alighted,  there  was  already  a  bustle 
that  nothing  but  a  fire  could  have  created  at  the 
same  hour  in  Boston.  A  little  farther  on  the 
steeple  of  Trinity  rose  high  into  the  scorching  sun- 
light, while  below,  in  the  shadow  that  was  darker 
than  it  was  cool,  slumbered  the  old  graves  among 
their  flowers. 

"  How  still  they  lie  !  "  mused  the  happy  wife, 
p(}ering  through  the  iron  fence  in  passing. 

"  Yes,  their  wedding-journeys  are  ended,  poor 
things !  "  said  Basil ;  and  through  both  their  minds 
flashed  the  wonder  if  they  should  ever  come  to 
something  like  that ;  but  it  appeared  so  impossible 
that  they  both  smiled  at  the  absurdity. 

"  It 's  too    early   yet  for   Leonard,"   continued 


do 


Til  KIR    WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


:   l!:| 


ti:l 


III 


Basil ;  "  what  a  pity  the  church-yard  is  lockocl  iip  ! 
Wo  could  s])(»nd  the  time  so  delightfully  in  it. 
But,  never  mind  ;  let  us  go  down  to  the  I'attery, 
—  it 's  not  a  very  pleasant  place,  but  it 's  near,  jind 
it 's  historical,  and  it 's  open,  —  wlu're  these;  drowsy 
friends  of  ours  used  to  talvc  the  air  when  tliey  were 
in  the  fashion,  and  had  some  occasion  for  the  (ele- 
ment in  its  freshness.  You  can  imagine  —  it 's 
cheap  —  how  tlu^y  used  to  see  Mr.  Burr  and  Mr. 
Ihimilton  down  there." 

All  })laces  that  fashion  has  once  loved  and  aban- 
doned are  very  melancholy  ;  but  of  all  such  phices, 
1  think  the  Battery  is  the  most  forlorn.  Are  there 
some  sickly  locust-trees  there  that  cast  a  tremulous 
and  decrcjiit  shade  upon  the  mangy  grass-plots  ?  I 
believe  so,  but  I  do  not  make  sure  ;  I  am  certain 
only  of  the  mangy  grass-plots,  or  rather  the  spaces 
between  the  paths,  thinly  overgrown  with  some 
kind  of  refuse  and  opprobrious  weed,  a  stunted 
and  pauper  vegetation  proper  solely  to  the  New 
York  iiattery.  At  that  hour  of  the  summer  morn- 
ing when  our  friends,  with  the  aimlessness  of 
strangers  who  are  waiting  to  do  something  else, 
saw  tlie  ancient  promenade,  a  few  scant  and  hun- 
gry-eyed little  boys  and  girls  were  wandering  over 
this  weedy  growth,  not  playing,  but  moving  list- 
lessly to  and  fro,  fantastic  in  the  wild  inaptness  of 
their  costumes.  One  of  these  little  creatures  wore, 
with  an  odd  involuntary  jauntiness,  the  cast-off 
best  dress  of  some  happier  child,  a  gay  little  gar- 


•"i! 


TFIK   OUTSF.T. 


81 


mont  cut  low  in  tlie  neck  iiiid  sliort  in  the  sl(M»ves, 
which  j^Jivc  her  tlio  grotesque  effect  of  huvinj^  been 
Jit  Ji  pjirty  the  night  before.  Presently  came  two 
jaded  women,  a  mother  and  a  ^grandmother,  that 
appeared,  wlien  they  had  crawled  out  of  their  beds, 
to  have  put  on  only  so  much  clothing  as  the  law 
compelled.  They  abandoned  themselves  upon  the 
grtMMi  stuff,  whatever  it  was,  and,  with  their  lean 
hands  clasped  outside  their  knees,  sat  and  stared, 
silent  and  liopeless,  at  the  eastern  sky,  at  the 
heart  of  the  terrible  furnace,  into  which  in  those 
days  the  world  seeired  cast  to  be  burnt  up,  while 
the  child  which  the  younger  wonuin  hatl  brought 
with  her  feebly  wailed  unheeded  at  her  side.  On 
one  side  of  these  women  were  the  shameless  houses 
out  of  which  they  might  have  crept,  and  which 
somehow  suggested  riotous  maritime  dissipation  ;  on 
the  other  side  were  those  houses  in  which  had  once 
dwelt  rich  and  famous  folk,  but  which  were  now 
dropping  down  the  boarding-house  scale  tlitough 
various  unhomelike  occupations  to  final  dishonor 
and  despair.  Down  nearer  the  water,  and  not  far 
from  the  castle  that  was  once  a  j)layhouse  and  is 
now  the  depot  of  emigration,  stood  certain  exj)ress- 
wagons,  and  about  these  k)unged  a  few  hard-look- 
in<j:  men.  Beyond  laujxhed  and  danced  the  fresh 
blue  water  of  the  bay,  dotted  with  sails  and  smoke- 
stacks. 

''  Well,"  said  Basil,  "  I  think  if  I  could  choose, 
I  should  like  to  be  a  friendless  German  boy,  setting 


■■ 


32 


TIIKIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY 


"1}' 

,|tMi 


foot  for  the  first  time  on  this  happy  continent. 
Fancy  his  rapture  on  bohohling  this  lovely  spot,  and 
these  charming  American  faces  I  What  a  smiling 
aspect  life  in  the  New  World  must  wear  to  his 
young  eyes,  and  how  his  heart  must  leap  within 
him  1 " 

"  Yes,  Basil ;  it 's  all  very  pleasing,  and  thank  you 
for  bringing  me.  But  if  you  don't  think  of  any 
other  New  York  delights  to  show  me,  do  let  us  go 
and  sit  in  Leonard's  office  till  he  comes,  and  then 
get  out  into  the  country  as  soon  as  possible." 

Basil  defended  himself  against  the  imputation 
that  he  had  been  trying  to  show  New  York  to  his 
wife,  or  that  he  had  any  thought  but  of  whiling 
away  the  long  morning  hours,  until  it  should  be 
time  to  go  to  Leonard.  He  protested  that  a  knowl- 
edge of  Europe  made  New  York  the  most  unin- 
teresting town  in  America,  and  that  it  was  the 
last  place  in  the  world  where  he  should  think  of 
amusing  himself  or  any  one  else  ;  and  then  they 
both  upbraided  the  city's  bigness  and  dullness  with 
an  enjoyment  tliat  none  but  Bostonians  can  know. 
They  particularly  derided  the  notion  of  New  York's 
being  loved  by  any  one.  It  was  immense,  it  was 
grand  in  some  ways,  parts  of  it  were  exceedingly 
handsome  ;  but  it  was  too  vast,  too  coarse,  too  rest- 
less. They  could  imagine  its  being  liked  by  a  suc- 
cessful young  man  of  business,  or  by  a  rich  young 
girl,  ignorant  of  life  and  with  not  too  nice  a  taste 
in  her  pleasures  ;  but  that  it  should  be  dear  to  any 


THE  OUTSKT. 


88 


poet  or  scholar,  or  any  woman  of  wisdom  and  n^fine- 

ment,  that  they  could  not  imagine.    They  could  not 

think  of  any  one's  loving  New  York  as  Dante  loved 

Florence,  or  as  Madame  de  Stael  loved  l*aris,  or  as 

Johnson   loved  black,   homely,  home-like  l^ondon. 

And  as  they  twittered    their   little  dispraises,  the 

giant  Mother  of  Commerce  was  growing  more  and 

more  conscious  of  herself,  waking  from  her  night's 

sleep  and  becoming  aware  of  her  fleets  and  trains, 

and  the  myriad  hands  and  wheels  that  throughout 

the  whole  sea  and  land  move  for  her,  and  do  her 

will  even  while  she  sleeps.     All  ab(mt  the  wedding- 

journeyers  swelled  the  deep  tide  of  life  back  from 

its  night-long  ebb.    Broadway  had  filled  her  length 

with  people ;  not  yet  the  most  characteristic  New 

York  crowd,  but  the  not  less  interesting  multitude 

of  strangers  arrived  by  the  early  boats  and  trains, 

and  that  easily  distinguishable  class  of  lately  New- 

Yorkized  people  from  other  places,  about  whom  in 

the  metropolis  still  hung  the  provincial  traditions  of 

early  rising  ;  and  over  all,  from  moment  to  moment, 

the  eager,  audacious,  well-dressed,  proper  life  of  the 

mighty   city  was   beginning  to   prevail,  —  though 

this  was  not  so  notable  where  Basil  and  Isabel  had 

paused  at  a  certain  window.     It  was  the  ollice  of 

one  of  the   English   steamers,  and  he  was  saying, 

"It  was  by  this   line  I  sailed,  you  know,"  —  and 

she  was  interrupting  him  with,  "  When  who  could 

have  dreamed  that  you  would  ever  be  telling  me  of 

it  here  ?  "     So  the  old  marvel  was  wondered  over 
3 


if  THEIR  WEDDING   JOURNEY. 

aneAV,  till  it  filled  the  world  in  which  there  was 
room  for  nothing  but  the  strangeness  that  they 
should  have  loved  each  other  so  long  and  not  made 
it  known,  that  they  should  ever  have  uttered  it,  and 
that,  being  uttered,  it  should  be  so  much  more  and 
better  than  ever  could  have  been  dreamed.  The 
broken  engagement  was  a  fable  of  disaster  that  only 
made  their  present  fortune  more  prosperous.  The 
city  ceased  about  them,  and  they  walked  on  up  the 
street,  the  first  man  and  first  woman  in  the  garden 
of  the  new-made  earth.  As  they  were  both  very 
conscious  people,  they  recognized  in  themselves 
some  sense  of  this,  and  presently  drolled  it  away, 
in  the  opulence  of  a  time  Avhen  every  moment 
brought  some  beautiful  dream,  and  the  soul  could 
be  prodigal  of  its  bliss. 

"■  I  think  if  I  had  the  naming  of  the  animals  over 
again,  this  morning,  I  shouldn't  call  snakes  snakes; 
should  you.  Eve  ?  "  laughed  Basil  in  intricate  ac- 
knowledgment of  his  happiness. 

"  O  no,  Adam;  we'd  look  out  all  the  most  grace- 
ful eu])hemisms  in  the  newspapers,  and  we  wouldn't 
hurt  the  feelings  of  a  spider." 


11. 


A  midsummer-day's  dream. 


They     had     waited 
to  see  Leonard,  in 
order      that     they 
might   learii  better 
hew     to    find     his 
house  in  the  coun- 
try ;  and  now,  when 
tliey  came  in  upon 
him  at  nine  o'clock, 
he  welcomed  them 
with  all  his  friend-^ 
ly  heart.     lie  rose 
from    the    pile    of 
morning's  letters  to 
which   he  had  but 
just  sat  down  ;  he 
placed     them    the 
easiest  chairs ;   he  made  a  feint  of  its  not  being  a 
busy  hour  with  him,  and  would  have  had  them  look 
upon  his  office,  which  was  still  damp  and  odorous 
from  the  porter's  broom,  as  a   kind  of  do^vn-town 
parlor  ;  but  after  they  had  briefly  accounted  to  his 


ii 


4 


■^. 


36 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


amazement  for  their  appearance  then  and  there,  and 
Isabel  had  boasted  of  the  original  fashion  in  which 
they  had  that  morning  seen  New  York,  they  took 
pity  on  him,  and  bade  him  adieu  till  evening. 

They  crossed  from  Broadway  to  the  noisome 
street  by  the  ferry,  and  in  a  little  while  had  taken 
their  places  in  the  train  on  the  thither  side  of  the 
water. 

"  Don't  tell  me,  Basil,"  said  Isabel,  "  that  Leon- 
ard travels  fifty  miles  every  day  by  rail  going  to 
and  from  his  work  !  " 

"  I  must,  dearest,  if  I  would  be  truthful." 

"  Then,  darling,  there  are  worse  things  in  this 
world  than  living  up  at  the  South  End,  aren't 
there  ?  "  And  in  agreement  upon  Boston  as  a  place 
of  the  greatest  natural  advantages,  as  well  as  all 
acquirable  merits,  with  after  talk  that  need  not  be 
•recorded,  they  arrived  in  the  best  humor  at  the  little 
country  station  near  which  the  Leonards  dwelt. 

I  must  inevitably  follow  Mrs.  Isabel  thither, 
though  I  do  it  at  the  cost  of  the  reader,  who  sus- 
pects the  excitements  which  a  long  description  of 
the  movement  would  delay.  The  ladies  were  very 
old  friends,  and  they  had  not  met  since  Isabel's  re- 
turn from  Europe  and  renewal  of  her  engagement. 
Upon  the  news  of  this,  Mrs.  Leonard  had  swal- 
lowed with  surprising  ease  all  that  she  had  said  in 
blame  of  Basil's  conduct  during  the  rupture,  and 
exacted  a  promise  from  her  friend  that  she  should 
pay  her  the  first  visit  after  their  marriage.     And 


A   HITDSUMMER-DAY  S  DREAM. 


now  that  they  had  come  together,  their  only  talk 
was  of  husbands,  whom  they  viewed  in  every  light 
to  which  husbands  could  be  turned,  and  still  found 
an  inexhaustible  novelty  in  the  theme.  Mrs.  Leon- 
ard beheld  in  her  friend's  joy  the  sweet  reflection 
of  her  own  honeymoon,  and  Isabel  was  pleased  to 
look  upon  the  prosperous  marriage  of  the  former  as 
the  image  of  her  future.  Thus,  with  immense  profit 
and  comfort,  they  reassured  one  another  by  every 
question  and  answer,  and  in  their  weak  content 
lapsed  far  behind  the  representative  women  of  our 
age,  when  husbands  are  at  best  a  necessary  evil, 
and  the  relation  of  wives  to  them  is  known  to  be 
one  of  pitiable  subjection.  When  these  two  pretty 
fogies  put  their  heads  of  false  hair  together,  they 
were  as  silly  and  benighted  as  their  great-grand- 
mothers could  have  been  in  the  same  circumstances, 
and,  as  I  say,  shamefully  encouraged  each  other  in 
their  absurdity.  The  absurdity  appeared  too  good 
and  blessed  to  be  true.  "  Do  you  really  suppose, 
Basil,"  Isabel  would  say  to  her  oppressor,  after  hav- 
ing given  him  some  elegant  extract  from  the  last 
conversation  upon  husbands,  "  that  we  shall  get  on 
as  smoothly  as  the  Leonards  when  we  have  been 
married  ten  years  ?  Lucy  says  that  things  go  more 
hitchily  the  first  year  than  ever  they  do  afterwards, 
and  that  people  love  each  other  better  and  better 
just  because  they've  got  used  to  it.  Well,  our  bliss 
does  seem  a  little  crude  and  garish  compared  with 
their  happiness  ;  and  yet  "  —  she  put  uj)  both  her 


38 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


i       iit): 


^11 


palms  against  his,  and  gave  a  vehement  little  push 
—  "  there  is  something  agreeable  about  it,  even  at 
this  stage  of  the  proceedings." 

*'  Isabel,"  said  lior  husband,  with  severity,  "  thia 
is  bridal  :  " 

"  No  matter  !  I  only  want  to  seem  an  old  mar- 
ried woman  to  the  general  public,  liut  the  appli- 
cation of  it  is  that  you  must  be  careful  not  to  con- 
tradict  me,  or  cross  me  in  anything,  so  that  we  can 
be  like  the  Leonards  very  much  sooner  than  tltey 
became  so.  The  gi-eat  object  is  not  to  have  any 
hitchiness ;  and  you  know  you  are  provoking  —  at 
times." 

They  both  educated  themselves  for  continued 
and  tranquil  happiness  by  the  example  and  prece])t 
of  their  friends  ;  and  the  time  passed  swiftly  in  the 
pleasant  learning,  and  in  the  novelty  of  the  life  led 
by  the  Leonards.  This  indeed  merits  a  closer 
study  than  can  be  given  here,  for  it  is  the  life  led 
by  vast  numbers  of  prosperous  New  Yorkers  who 
love  both  the  excitement  of  the  city  and  the  repose 
of  the  country,  and  who  aspire  to  unite  t\v^  Piij<>y- 
ment  of  both  in  their  daily  existence.  The  sub- 
urbs of  the  metropolis  stretch  landward  fifty  miles 
in  every  direction  ;  and  everywhere  are  handsome 
villas  like  Leonard's,  inhabited  by  men  like  him- 
self, whom  strict  study  of  the  time-table  enables  to 
spend  all  their  working  hours  in  the  city  and  all 
their  smoking  and  sleeping  hours  in  the  country. 

The  home  and  the  neiirhborhood  of   the   Leon- 


A   MIDSUMMKR-DAY  S   DREAM. 


39 


ards  put  on  their  best  looks  for  our  bridal  pair,  and 
they  were  charmed,  'i'hey  all  enjoyed  the  visit, 
said  guests  and  hosts,  they  were  all  sorry  to  have  it 
come  to  an  end  ;  yet  they  all  resigned  themselves 
to  this  conclusion.  Practically,  it  had  no  other  re- 
sult than  to  detain  the  travellers  into  the  very 
heart  of  the  liot  weather.  Jn  that  weather  it  was 
easy  to  do  anything  that  did  not  require  an  active 


eft" 


ort,  and  resignation  was  so  natural  with  the 
mercury  at  ninety,  that  I  am  not  sure  but  there 
was  something  sinful  in  it. 

They  had  given  up  their  cherished  purpose  of 
going  to  Albany  by  the  day  boat,  which  was  rep- 
resented to  them  in  every  impossible  phase.  It 
would  be  dreadfully  crowded,  and  whenever  it 
stopped  the  heat  would  be  insupportable.  Besides 
it  would  bring  them  to  Albany  at  an  hour  wiien 
they  must  either  spend  the  night  there,  or  push  on 
to  Niagara  by  the  night  train.  "•  You  had  better 
go  by  the  evening  l)oat.  It  will  be  light  almost 
till  you  reach  West.  Point,  and  you'll  see  all  the 
best  scenery.  Then  you  can  get  a  good  night's 
rest,  and  start  fresh  in  the  morning."  So  they 
were  counseled,  and  they  assented,  as  they  would 
have  done  if  they  had  been  advised  :  "  You  had 
bettor  go  by  the  morning  boat.  It's  deliciously 
cool,  travelling  ;  you  see  the  whole  of  the  river ; 
you  reach  Albany  for  supper,  and  you  push 
through  to  Niagara  that  night  and  are  done  with 
it." 


40 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


i:!i 


II 


!i=^* 


i\ 


[|;i 
\li\ 


They  took  leave  of  Leonard  at  breakfast  and  of 
his  wife  jit  noon,  and  fifteen  minutes  later  they 
were  rushing  from  the  heat  of  the  country  into  the 
heat  of  the  city,  Avhere  some  affairs  and  pleasures 
were  to  employ  them  till  the  evening  boat  should 
start. 


Their  spirits  were  low,  for  the  terrible  spell  of 
the  great  heat  brooded  upon  them.  All  abroad 
burned  the  fierce  white  light  of  the  sun,  in  which 
not  only  the  earth  seemed  to  parch  and  thirst,  but 


A   MIDSUMMKR-DAY  S   DREAM. 


^1 


■•:  1 


the  very  air  withered,  and  was  faint  and  thia  to 
the  troubled  respiration.  Their  train  was  fidl  of 
peoj)le  who  had  come  long  journeys  from  broiling 
cities  of  the  West,  and  who  were  dusty  and  ashen 
and  reeking  in  the  slumbers  at  which  some  of  them 
still  vainly  caught.  On  every  one  lay  an  awful 
languor.  Here  and  there  stirred  a  fan,  like  the 
broken  wing  of  a  dying  bird;  now  and  then  a 
sweltering  young  mother  shifted  her  hot  baby  from 
one  arm  to  another  ;  after  every  station  the  des- 
perate conductor  swung  through  the  long  aisle  and 
punched  the  ticket,  which  each  passenger  seemed 
to  yield  him  with  a  tacit  malediction  ;  a  suffering 
child  hung  about  the  empty  tank,  which  could  only 
gasp  out  a  cindery  drop  or  two  of  ice-water.  The 
wind  buffeted  faintly  at  the  windows  ;  when  the 
door  was  opened,  the  clatter  of  the  rails  struck 
through  and  through  the  car  like  a  demoniac  yell. 

Yet  when  they  arrived  at  the  station  oy  the 
ferry-side,  they  seemed  to  have  entered  its  stifling 
darkness  from  fresh  and  vigorous  atmosphere,  so 
close  and  dead  and  mixed  with  the  carbonic  breath 
of  the  locomotives  was  the  air  of  the  place.  The 
thin  old  wooden  walls  that  shut  out  the  glare  of 
the  sun  transmitted  an  intensified  warmth ;  the 
roof  seemed  to  hover  lower  and  lower,  and  in  its 
coal-smoked,  raftery  hollow  to  generate  a  heat 
deadlier  than  that  poured  upon  it  from  the  skies. 

In  a  convenient  place  in  the  station  hung  a  ther- 
mometer, before  which  every  passenger,  on  going 


■'■~.\ 


B 


IB  'i 


42 


THKIR    WKDDING   JOURNEY. 


ahf){ir(l  tlie  ferry-boat,  paused  Jis  at  a  slirine,  and 
mutely  paid  liis  devotions.  At  the  altar  of  this 
fetich  our  friemls  also  j)aused,  and  saw  that ,  the 
mercury  was  above  ninety,  and  exultinj^  with  the 
pride  that  savages  take  in  the  cruel  might  of  their 
idols,  bowed  their  souls  to  the  great  god  Heat. 

( )n  the  boat  they  found  a  place  whcie  the 
breath  of  the  sea  struck  cool  across  their  faces,  and 
nuide  them  forget  the  thermometer  for  the  brief 
time  of  the  transit.  15ut  presently  they  drew  near 
that  strange,  irregular  row  of  wooden  buildings 
an<l  jutting  piers  which  skirts  the  river  on  the  New 
York  side,  and  before  the  boat's  motion  ceased  the 
air  grew  thick  and  warm  again,  and  tainted  with 
the  fouliuiss  of  the  street  on  which  the  buildings 
front.  Upon  this  the  boat's  passengers  issued, 
passing  up  through  a  gangway,  on  one  side  of 
which  a  throng  of  return-passengers  was  pent  by  a 
gate  of  iron  bars,  like  a  herd  of  wild  animals. 
They  were  streaming  with  perspiration,  and,  ac- 
cording to  their  different  temperaments,  had  faces 
of  deep  crimson  or  deadly  pallor. 

"  Now  the  question  is,  my  dear,"  said  Basil 
when,  free  of  the  press,  they  lingered  for  a  mo- 
ment in  the  shade  outside,  '*•  whether  we  had  bet- 
ter walk  up  to  Broadway,  at  an  immediate  sacrifice 
of  fibre,  and  get  a  stage  there,  or  take  one  of  these 
cars  here,  and  be  landed  a  little  nearer,  with  half 
the  exertion.  By  this  route  we  shall  have  sights 
and  smells  which  the  other  can't  offer  us,  but 
whichever  we  take  we  shall  be  sorry.' 


»> 


A  MIDSUMMER-DAY  S   DRKAM. 


43 


'*  Tlien  I  say  take  this,"  decided  Isabel.  "  I 
want  to  be  sorry  upon  the  easiest  possible  terms, 
this  weather." 

They  hailed  the  first  car  that  passed,  and  got 
into  it.  Well  for  them  both  if  she  could  luive  ex- 
ercised this  philosophy  with  regard  to  the  whole 
day's  business,  or  if  she  could  have  given  up  her 
plans  for  it  with  the  same  resignation  she  had 
practiced  in  regard  to  the  day  boat !  It  seems  to 
me  a  proof  of  the  small  advance  our  race  has  made 
in  true  wisdom,  that  we  find  it  so  hard  to  give  up 
doing  anything  wo  have  meant  to  do.  It  matters 
very  little  whether  the  affair  is  one  of  enjoyment 
or  of  business,  we  feel  the  same  bitter  need  of  pur- 
suing it  to  the  end.  The  mere  fact  of  intention 
gives  it  a  flavor  of  duty,  and  dutiolatry,  as  one 
may  call  the  devotion,  has  passed  so  deeply  into 
our  life  that  we  have  scarcely  a  sense  any  more  of 
the  sweetness  of  even  a  neglected  pleasure.  We 
will  not  taste  the  fine,  guilty  rapture  of  a  deliber- 
ate dereliction  ;  the  gentle  sin  of  omission  is  all  but 
blotted  from  the  calendar  oi  our  crimes.  If  I  had 
been  Columbus,  I  should  have  thought  twice  before 
setting  sail,  when  I  was  quite  ready  to  do  so  ;  and 
as  for  Plymouth  Rock,  I  should  have  sternly  re- 
sisted the  blandishments  of  those  twin  sirens.  Star- 
vation and  Cold,  who  beckoned  the  Puritans  shore- 
ward, and  as  soon  as  ever  I  came  in  sight  of  their 
granite  perch  should  have  turned  back  to  England. 
But  it  is  now  too  late  to  repair  these  errors,  and  so, 


i'  i 


44 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


on  one  of  the  hottest  days  of  last  year,  behold 
my  olxlurate  bridal  })air,  in  a  Tenth  or  Twentieth 
Avenue  horse-ear,  setting  forth  upon  the  fulfilhnent 
oi  a  series  of  intentions,  any  of  which  had  wiselier 
been  left  unaccomplished.  Isabel  had  said  they 
would  call  upon  certain  people  in  Fiftieth  Street, 
and  then  shop  slowly  down,  ice-creaming  and  stag- 
ing and  variously  cooling  and  calming  by  the  way, 
until  they  reached  the  ticket-oifice  on  Broadway, 
whence  they  could  indefinitely  betake  themselves 
to  the  steamboat  an  hour  or  two  before  her  depart- 
ure. She  felt  that  they  had  yielded  sufficiently  to 
circumstances  and  conditions  already  on  this  jour- 
ney, and  she  was  resolved  that  the  present  half-day 
in  New  York  should  be  the  half-day  of  her  original 
design. 

It  was  not  the  most  advisable  thing,  as  I  have 
allowed,  but  it  Avas  inevitable,  and  it  afforded 
thf^m  a  spectacle  which  is  by  no  means  wanting  in 
sublimity,  and  which  is  certainly  unique,  —  the 
spectacle  of  that  great  city  on  a  hot  day,  defiant  of 
the  elements,  and  prospering  on  with  every  form 
of  labor,  and  at  a  terrible  cost  of  life.  The  man 
carrying  the  hod  to  the  top  of  the  walls  that 
rankly  grow  and  grow  as  from  his  life's  blood,  will 
only  lay  doAvn  his  load  when  he  feels  the  mortal 
glare  of  the  sun  blaze  in  upon  heart  and  brain  ;  the 
plethoric  millionaire  for  whom  he  toils  will  plot 
and  plan  in  his  office  till  he  swoons  at  the  desk  ; 
the  trembling  beast  must  stagger  forward  while  the 


A   MIDSUMMER-DAY  S   DREAM. 


46 


flame-faced  tormentor  on  the  box  has  strength  to 
lash  him  on  ;  in  all  those  vast  palaces  of  commerce 
there  are  ceaseless  sale  and  purchase,  i)acking  and 
unpacking,  lifting  up  and  laying  down,  arriving 
and  departing  loads  ;  in  thousands  of  shops  is  the 
nnspared  and  unsi)aring  weariness  of  selling  ;  in 
the  street,  filled  by  the  hurry  and  surt'ering  of  tcna 
of  thousands,  is  the  weariness  of  buying.  ' 

Their  afternoon's  experience  was  something  that 
Basil  and  Isabel  could,  when  it  was  past,  look  upon 
only  as  a  kind  of  vision,  magnificent  at  times,  and 
at  other  times  full  of  indignity  and  pain.  They 
seemed  to  have  dreamed  of  a  long  horse-car  pil- 
grimage through  that  squalid  street  by  the  river-side, 
where  presently  they  came  to  a  market,  opening 
upon  the  view  hideous  vistas  of  carnage,  and  then 
into  a  wide  avenue,  Avith  processions  of  cars  like 
their  OAvn  coming  and  going  up  and  down  the  cen- 
tre of  a  foolish  and  useless  breadth,  which  made 
even  the  tall  buildings  (rising  gauntly  up  among 
the  older  houses  of  one  or  two  stories)  on  either 
hand  look  low,  and  let  in  the  sun  to  bake  the  dust 
that  the  hot  breaths  of  wind  caught  up  and 
sent  swirling  into  the  shabby  shops.  Here  they 
dreamed  of  the  eternal  demolition  and  construction 
of  the  city,  and  farther  on  of  vacant  lots  full  of 
granite  boulders,  clambered  over  by  goats.  In 
their  dream  they  had  fellow-passengers,  whose 
sutferings  made  them  odious  and  whom  they  were 
glad  to  leave  behind  when  they  alighted  from  the 


P 


11 


46 


TIIKIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


I- 


ft 


car,  and  running  out  of  tlie  blaze  of  the  avenue, 
qucnclH'd   tlicinsc'lvps   in   tlic   sliade   of  the   cross- 


street.  A  little  strip  of  shadow  lay  along  the  row 
of  brown-stone  fronts,  but  there  were  intervals 
where  the  vacant  lots  cast  no  shadow.     With  great 


A   MID.Si;.MMER-DAY  S   DREAM. 


47 


bestowjil  of  thought  tlicy  studied  lioju'lcssly  how  to 
avoid  th('s(»  HjKicfs  as  if  tiu*y  had  boen  ditlii;ult  tor- 
rents or  vast  expanses  of  desert  sand  ;  they  erept 
8h)wly  along  till  they  eanie  to  such  a  j>laee,  and 
dashed  swiftly  across  it,  and  then,  fainter  than 
befor«',  moved  on.  They  seemed  now  and  then  to 
stand  at  doors,  and  to  be  told  that  people  were  out, 
and  anain  that  they  were  in  ;  and  they  had  a  sense 
of  cool  dark  parlors,  and  the  airy  rustling  of  light- 
niuslincd  ladies,  of  chat  and  of  fans  and  ice-water, 
and  then  they  came  forth  again  ;  and  evermore 
"  The  iliiy  iiicrcnsnl  from  heat  to  heat." 
At  hist  they  were  aware  of  an  end  of  tlieir  vis- 
its, and  of  a  purj)ose  to  go  tlown  town  again,  and 
of  seckini''  the  nearest  car  by  endless  blocks  of 
brown-stone  fronts,  which  with  their  etenud  brown- 
stone  flights  of  steps,  and  their  handsome,  intoler- 
able uniformity,  oppressed  them  like  a  procession 
of  lioMsi's  trying  to  pass  a  given  point  and  never 
getting  by.  Upon  these  streets  there  was  seldom 
a  soul  to  be  seen,  so  that  when  'heir  ringing  at  a 
door  had  evoked  answer,  it  had  startled  them  with  a 
vague,  sad  surprise.  In  the  distance  (m  either  liand 
they  ('oiiI<l  see  cars  and  carts  and  wagons  toiling  up 
aiul  down  the  avenues,  and  on  the  next  intersecting 
pavement  sometimes  a  laborer  with  his  jacket  slung 
across  his  shoulder,  or  a  dog  that  had  plainly  made 
up  his  mind  to  go  mad.  Up  to  the  time  of  their 
getting  into  one  of  those  phantasmal  cars  for  tlie 
return  doNvn-to\vnwards  they  liad  kept  up  a  show  of 


■i 


'4 

'4 


48 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


•i! 


h 


talk  in  their  wretched  dream ;  they  had  spoken  of 
other  hot  days  that  they  had  kno^vn  elsewhere  ;  and 
they  had  wondered  that  the  tragical  character  of 
Jieat  had  been  so  little  recognized.  They  said  that 
the  daily  New  York  murder  might  even  at  that 
moment  be  somewhere  taking  place  ;  and  that  no 
murder  of  the  whole  homicidal  year  could  have 
such  proper  circumstance  ;  they  morbidly  wondered 
what  that  day's  murder  would  be,  and  in  what 
swarming  tenement-house,  or  den  of  the  assassin 
streets  by  the  river-sides,  —  if  indeed  it  did  not 
befall  in  some  such  high,  close-shuttered,  liandsome 
dwelling  as  those  they  passed,  in  whose  twilight  it 
would  be  so  easy  to  strike  down  the  master  and 
leave  him  undiscovered  and  unmourned  by  the 
family  ignorantly  absent  at  the  mountains  or  the 
seaside.  They  conjectured  of  the  horror  of  mid- 
summer battles,  and  pictured  the  anguish  of  ship- 
wrecked men  upon  a  tropical  coast,  and  the  grimy 
misery  of  stevedores  unloading  shiny  cargoes  of 
anthracite  coal  at  city  docks.  But  now  at  last,  as 
they  took  seats  opposite  one  another  in  the  crowded 
car,  they  seemed  to  have  drifted  infinite  distances 
and  long  epochs  asunder.  They  looked  hopelessly 
across  the  intervening  gulf,  and  mutely  questioned 
when  it  was  and  from  what  far  city  they  or  some 
remote  ancestors  of  theirs  had  set  forth  upon  a 
wedding  journey.  They  bade  each  other  a  tacit 
farewell,  and  with  patient,  pathetic  faces  awaited 
the  end  of  the  world. 


;»; 


A  MIDSUMM1:R-DAY  S   DREAM. 


49 


When  they  alighted,  they  took  their  way  up 
through  one  of  the  streets  of  the  great  wholesale 
businesses,  to  Broadway.  On  this  street  was  a 
tln'ong  of  trucks  and  wagons  lading  and  unlading  ; 
bales  and  boxes  rose  and  sank  by  pulleys  overhead  ; 
the  footway  was  a  labyrinth  of  packages  of  every 
shape  and  size :  there  was  no  flagging  of  the  piti- 
less energy  that  moved  all  forward,  no  sign  of  how 
heavy  a  weight  lay  on  it,  save  in  the  reeking  faces 
of  its  helpless  instruments.  But  when  the  wed- 
ding-journeyers  emerged  upon  Broadway,  the  other 
passages  and  incidents  of  their  dream  faded  before 
the  superior  fantasticality  of  the  spectacle.  It  was 
four  o'clock,  the  deadliest  hour  of  the  deadly  sum- 
mer day.  The  spiritless  air  seemed  to  have  a 
quality  of  blackness  in  it,  as  if  filled  with  the  gloom 
of  low-hovering  v/ings.  One  half  the  street  lay  in 
shadow,  and  one  half  in  sun  ;  but  the  sunshine 
itself  was  dim,  as  if  a  heat  greater  than  its  o\vn 
had  smitten  it  with  languor.  Little  gusts  of  sick, 
warm  wind  blew  across  the  great  avenue  at  the 
corners  of  the  intersecting  streets.  In  the  upward 
distance,  at  which  the  journeyers  looked,  the  loftier 
roofs  and  steeples  lifted  themselves  dim  out  of  the 
livid  atmosphere,  and  far  up  and  down  the  length 
of  the  street  swept  a  stream  of  tormented  life. 
All  sorts  of  wheeled  things  thronged  it,  conspicuous 
among  which  rolled  and  jarred  the  gaudily  painted 
stages,  -with  quivering  horses  driven  each  by  a  man 
who  sat  in  the  shade   of  a  branching  white  um- 


r>o 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


, 


brella,  and  suffered  with  a  moody  truculence  of 
as])ect,  and  as  if  he  harbored  the  bitterness  of 
death  in  liis  heart  for  tlie  crowding  passengers 
within,  when  one  of  tlieni  pulled  the  strap  about 
his  legs,  and  summoned  him  to  halt.  IVIost  of  the 
foot-passengers  kept  to  the  shady  side,  and  to  the 
unaccustomed  eyes  of  the  strangers  they  were  not 
less  in  number  than  at  any  other  time,  though 
there  were  fewer  women  amone:  them.  Indomita- 
bly  resolute  of  soul,  they  held  their  course  with  the 
swift  pace  of  custom,  and  only  here  and  there  they 
showed  the  effect  of  the  heat.  One  man,  collarless, 
with  waistcoat  unbuttoned,  and  hat  set  far  back 
from  his  forehead,  waved  a  fan  before  his  death- 
white  flabby  face,  and  set  down  one  foot  after  the 
other  with  the  heaviness  of  a  somnambulist.  An- 
other, as  they  passed  him,  was  saying  huskily  to 
the  friend  at  his  side,  "  I  can't  stand  this  much 
longer.  My  hands  tingle  as  if  they  had  gone  to 
sleep;  my  heart  —  "  But  still  the  multitude  hur- 
ried on,  passing,  repassing,  encountering,  evading, 
vanishing  into  shop-doors  and  emerging  from  them, 
dispersing  down  the  side  streets,  and  swarming  out 
of  them.  It  was  a  scene  that  possessed  tlie  be- 
holder with  singular  fascination,  and  in  its  effect  of 
universal  lunacy,  it  might  well  have  seemed  the  last 
phase  of  a  world  presently  to  be  destroyed.  They 
who  were  in  it  but  not  of  it,  as  they  fancied,  — 
though  there  was  no  reason  for  this,  —  looked  on  it 
amazed,  and  at  last  their  own  errands  being  accom- 


A  midsummer-day's  dream 


61 


plished,  and  themselves  so  far  cured  of  tlie  inadiiesa 
of  purpose,  they  cried  with  one  voice,  that  it  was 
a  hideous  siglit,  and  strove  to  take  refuge  from  it  in 
the  nearest  place  wliere  the  soihi-fountain  sparkled. 
It  was  a  vain  desire.  At  the  front  door  of  the 
apothecary's  hung  a  thermometer,  and  as  they  en- 
tered tiiey  heard  the  next  comer  cry  out  witii  a 
maniacal  pride  in  the  atlliction  laid  upon  mankind, 
"  Ninety-seven  degrees  !  "  l^ehind  them  at  tiu;  door 
there  poured  in  a  ceaseless  stream  of  people,  each 
pausing  at  the  shrine  of  heat,  before  he  tossed  olf 
the  hissing  draught  that  two  pale,  close-clipped 
boys  served  them  from  either  side  of  the  fountain. 
Then  in  the  ord(»r  of  their  coming  they  issued 
througli  another  door  up(m  the  side  street,  each,  as 
he  disappeared,  turning  his  face  half  round,  and 
casting  a  casual  glance  upon  a  little  group  near 
another  counter.  The  group  was  of  a  very  patient, 
half-frightened,  half-puzzled  looking  gentleman  who 
sat  perfectly  still  on  a  stool,  and  of  a  lady  who  stood 
beside  him,  rubbing  all  over  his  head  a  handker- 
chief full  of  pounded  ice,  and  easing  one  hand  with 
the  other  Avhen  the  first  became  tired.  I5asil  drank 
Ills  soda  and  pivused  to  look  upon  this  group,  which 
he  felt  would  commend  itself  to  realistic  sculj)ture 
as  eminently  cliaracteristic  of  the  local  life,  and  as 
"  The  Sunstroke  "  would  sell  enormously  in  the  hot 
season.  "  Better  take  a  little  more  of  that,"  the 
apothecary  said,  looking  up  from  liis  prescription, 
and,  as  the  organized  sympathy  of  the  seemingly 


52 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


I 


indifferent  crowd,  smiling  very  kindly  at  his  pa- 


ll! 


i: 


I! 


tient,  who  thereupon  tasted  something  in  the  glass 


A  midsummkr-day's  dream. 


53 


he  held.  "  Do  you  still  feel  like  fainting  ?  "  asked 
the  humane  authority.  '•'•  Slightly,  now  and  then," 
answered  the  other,  •'  but  I'm  hanging  on  hard  to 
the  bottom  curve  of  that  icicled  S  on  your  soda- 
fountain,  and  I  feel  that  I'm  all  right  as  long  as  I 
can  see  that.  The  people  get  rather  hazy,  occa- 
sionally, and  have  no  features  to  speak  of.  But  I 
don't  know  that  I  look  very  impressive  myself,"  he 
added  in  tiie  jesting  mood  which  seems  the  natural 
condition  of  Americans  in  the  face  of  all  embarrass- 
ments, » 

"  O,  you'll  do  ! "  the  apothecary  answered,  with 
a  laugh  ;  but  he  said,  in  answer  to  an  anxious  ques- 
tion from  the  ladv,  "  He  mustn't  be  moved  for  an 
hour  yet,"  andgayly  pestled  away  at  a  prescription, 
while  she  resumed  her  office  of  grinding  the  pounded 
ice  round  and  round  upon  her  husband's  skull.  Isa- 
bel offered  her  the  commiseration  of  friendly  words, 
and  of  looks  kinder  yet,  and  then  seeing  that  they 
could  do  nothing,  she  and  Basil  fell  into  the  endless 
procession,  and  passed  out  of  the  side  door.  "  What 
a  shocking  thing !  "  she  whispered.  *'  Did  you  see 
how  all  the  people  looked,  one  after  another,  so  in- 
differently at  that  couple,  and  evidently  forgot  them 
the  next  instant  ?  It  was  dreadful.  I  shouldn't 
like  to  have  you  sun-struck  in  New  York." 

'*  That 's  very  considerate  of  you  ;  but  place  for 
place,  if  any  accident  must  happen  to  me  among 
strangers,  I  think  I  should  prefer  to  have  it  in  New 
York.     The  biggest  place  is  always  the  kindest  as 


54 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


well  as  the  crudest  place.  Amongst  the  thousands 
of  sj)ectators  the  good  Samaritan  as  well  as  the  Le- 
vite  would  be  sure  to  be.  As  for  a  sun-stroke,  it 
requires  peculiar  gifts.  But  if  you  compel  me  to  a 
choice  in  the  matter,  then  I  say,  give  me  the  busiest 
part  of  Broadway  for  a  sun-stroke.  There  is  such 
experience  of  calamity  there  that  you  could  hardly 
fall  the  first  victim  to  any  misfortune.  Probably 
the  gentleman  at  the  apothecary's  was  merely  ex- 
hausted by  the  heat,  and  ran  in  there  for  revival. 
The  apothecary  has  a  case  of  the  kind  on  his  hands 
every  blazing  afternoon,  and  knows  just  what  to  do. 
The  crowd  may  be  a  little  ennuye  of  sun-strokes, 
and  to  that  degree  indifferent,  but  they  most  likely 
know  that  they  can  only  do  harm  by  an  expression 
of  sympathy,  and  so  they  delegate  their  pity  as  they 
have  delegated  their  helpfulness  to  the  proper 
authority,  and  go  about  their  business.  If  a  man 
was  overcome  in  the  middle  of  a  village  street,  the 
blundering  country  druggist  woiddn't  know  what 
to  do,  and  the  tender-hearted  people  would  crowd 
about  so  that  no  breath  of  air  could  reach  the 
victim." 

"  May  be  so,  dear,"  said  the  wife,  pensively  ; 
"  but  if  anything  did  happen  to  you  in  New  York, 
I  should  like  to  have  the  spectators  look  as  if  they 
saw  a  human  being  in  trouble.  Perhaps  I'm  a  little 
exacting." 

"  I  think  you  are.  Nothing  is  so  hard  as  to 
understand  that  there   are   human   beings  in  this 


A  midsummer-day's  dream. 


}b 


world  besides  one's  self  and  one's  set.  But  let  us 
be  selfishly  thankful  that  it  isn't  you  and  I  there 
in  the  apothecary's  shop,  as  it  might  very  well  be  ; 
and  let  us  get  to  the  boat  as  soon  as  we  can,  and 
end  this  horrible  midsummer-day's  dream.  We 
must  have  a  carriage,"  he  added  with  tarily  wisdom, 
hailing  an  empty  hack,  "  as  we  ought  to  have  had 
all  day  ;  though  I'm  not  sorry,  now  the  worst 's  over, 
k  have  seen  the  worst." 


!■! 


t  i 


III. 


THE  NIGHT  BOAT. 


There  is  lit- 
tle proportion 
about  either 
pain  or  jileas- 
ure  :  a  head- 
ache darkens 
the  universe 
while  it  lasts, 
a  cup  of  tea 
really  lightens  the  spirit  bereft  of  all  reasonable 
consolations.  Therefore  I  do  not  think  it  trivial  or 
untrue  to  say  that  there  is  for  the  moment  nothing 
more  satisfactory  in  life  than  to  have  bought  your 
ticket  on  the  night  boat  up  the  Hudson  and  secured 
your  state-room  key  an  hour  or  two  before  departure, 
and  some  time  even  before  the  pressure  at  the  clerk's 
office  has  begun.  In  the  transaction  with  this  cas- 
tellated baron,  you  have  of  course  been  treated  with 
haughtiness,  but  not  with  ferocity,  and  your  self- 
respect  swells  with  a  sense  of  having  escaped  posi- 
tive insult ;  your  key  clicks  cheerfully  in  your  pocket 
against  its  gutta-percha  number,  and  you  walk  up 


1 


THE  NIGHT   BOAT. 


67 


; 


and  clown  the  gorgeously  carpeted,  single-columned, 
two-story  cabin,  amid  a  multitude  of  plush  sofas  and 
chairs,  a  glitter  of  glass,  and  a  tinkle  of  prismatic 
chandeliers  overhead,  unawed  even  by  the  aristo- 
cratic gloom  of  the  yellow  waiters.  Your  own  state- 
room as  you  enter  it  from  time  to  time  is  an  ever- 
new  surprise  of  splendors,  a  magniftcent  elfect  of 
am])litude,  of  mahogany  bedstead,  of  lace  curtains, 
and  of  marble  topped  wash-stand.  In  the  mere  wan- 
tonness of  an  unalloyed  prosperity  you  say  to  the 
saftVon  nobleman  nearest  your  door,  ''  Uring  me  a 
pitcher  of  ice-water,  quick,  please  !  "  and  you  do 
not  find  the  half-hour  that  he  is  gone  very  long. 

If  the  ordinary  wayfarer  experiences  so  much 
pleasure  from  these  things,  then  imagine  the  infinite 
comfort  of  our  wedding-journey ers,  transported  from 
Broadway  on  that  pitiless  afternoon  to  the  shelter 
and  the  quiet  of  that  absurdly  palatial  steamboat. 
It  was  not  yet  crowded,  and  by  the  river-side  there 
■was  almost  a  freshness  in  the  air.  They  disposed 
of  their  troubling  bags  and  packages  ;  they  com- 
plimented the  ridiculous  princeliness  of  their  state- 
room, and  then  they  betook  themselves  to  the 
sheltered  space  aft  of  the  saloon,  where  they  sat 
down  for  the  tranquiller  observance  of  the  wharf 
and  whatever  should  come  to  be  seen  by  them. 
Like  all  people  vi^ho  have  just  escaped  with  their 
lives  from  some  menacing  calamity,  they  were  very 
philosophical  in  spirit ;  and  having  got  aboard  of 
their  own  motion,  and  being  neither  of  them  ap- 


58 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


f' 


parently  the  worse  for  the  ordeul  they  had  passed 
throuj^h,  were  of  a  light,  conversational  temper. 

"  What  an  amusingly  superb  affair  !  "  Basil  cried 
as  they  glanced  through  an  open  window  down  the 
long  vista  of  the  saloon.  "  Good  heavens  !  Isabel, 
does  it  take  all  this  to  get  us  plain  republicans  to 
Albany  in  comfort  and  safety,  or  are  we  really  a 
nation  of  princes  in  disguise  ?  Well,  I  shall  never 
be  satisfied  Avith  less  hereafter,"  he  added.  *'  I  am 
spoilt  for  ordinary  paint  and  upholstery  from  this 
hour ;  I  am  a  ruinous  spendthrift,  and  a  humble 
three-story  swell-front  up  at  the  South  End  is  no 
longer  the  place  for  me.     Dearest, 

" '  Let  us  swear  an  oath,  and  keep  it  with  an  equal  mind/ 

never  to  leave  this  Aladdin's-palace-like  steamboat, 
but  spend  our  lives  in  perpetual  trips  up  and  down 
the  Hudson." 

To  which  not  very  costly  banter  Isabel  responded 
in  kind,  and  rapidly  sketched  the  life  they  could 
lead  aboard.  Since  they  could  not  help  it,  they 
mocked  the  public  provision  which,  leaving  no  in- 
terval between  disgraceful  squalor  and  ludicrous 
splendor,  accommodates  our  democratic  mhiage  to 
the  taste  of  the  richest  and  most  extravagant  ple- 
beian amongst  us.  He,  unhappily,  minds  danger 
and  oppression  as  little  as  he  minds  money,  so  long 
as  he  has  a  spectacle  and  a  sensation,  and  it  is  this 
ruthless  imbecile  who  will  have  lace  curtains  to  the 
steamboat  berth  into  which  he  gets  with  his  pan- 


tiif:  night  boat. 


59 


taloons  on,  and  out  of  wliicli  he  may  be  blown  by 
an  ex])l(Kling  boiler  at  any  moment  ;  it  is  he  wiio 
will  have  for  supper  that  overgrown  and  sha|)ele8S 
dinner  in  the  lower  saloon,  and  will  not  let  any  one 
else  l)ny  tea  or  toast  for  a  less  sum  than  he  pays  for 
his  surfeit ;  it  is  he  who  perpetuates  the  insolence 
of  the  clerk  and  the  reluctance  of  the  waiters  ;  it  is 
he,  in  fact,  who  now  comes  out  of  the  saloon,  with 
his  womenkind,  and  takes  chairs  under  the  awning 
where  Basil  and  Isabel  sit.  Personally,  he  is  not 
so  bad  ;  he  is  good-looking,  like  all  of  us ;  he  is 
better  dressed  than  most  of  us  ;  he  behaves  himself 
quietly,  if  not  easily ;  and  no  lord  so  loathes  a 
scene.  Next  year  he  is  going  to  Europe,  where  he 
will  not  show  to  so  much  advantage  as  here  ;  but  for 
the  present  it  would  be  hard  to  say  in  what  way  he 
is  vulgar,  and  perhaps  vulgarity  is  not  so  common 
a  thing  after  all. 

It  was  something  besides  the  river  that  made 
the  air  so  much  more  sufferable  than  it  had  been. 
Over  the  city,  since  our  friends  had  come  aboard  the 
boat,  a  black  cloud  had  gathered  and  now  hung  low 
upon  it,  while  the  wind  from  the  face  of  the  water 
took  the  dust  in  the  neighboring  streets,  and  frol- 
icked it  about  the  house-tops,  and  in  the  faces  of  the 
arriving  passengers,  who,  as  the  moment  of  depart- 
ure drew  near,  appeared  in  constantly  increasing 
minil)er8  and  in  greater  variety,  ^vith  not  only  the 
trepidation  of  going  upon  them,  but  also  with  the 
electrical  excitement  people  feel  before  a  tempest. 


60 


THEIR    WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


ill 


•II 

I'll 


The  breast  of  the  black  cloud  was  now  zigzagged 
from  moment  to  moment  by  lightning,  and  claps  of 
deafening  thunder  broke  from  it.  At  last  the  long 
endurance  of  the  day  was  spent,  and  out  of  its  con- 
vulsion burst  floods  of  rain,  again  and  again  sweep- 
ing the  promenade-deck  where  the  people  sat,  and 
driving  them  disconsolate  into  the  saloon.  The  air 
was  darkened  as  by  night,  and  \vitli  many  regrets 
for  the  vanishing  prospect,  mingled  with  a  sense  of 
relief  from  the  heat,  our  friends  felt  the  boat  trem- 
ble away  from  her  moorings  and  set  forth  upon  her 
trip. 

"  Ah  !  if  we  had  only  taken  the  day  boat  I  '* 
moaned  Isabel.  "  Now,  we  shall  see  nothing  of  the 
river  landscape,  and  we  shall  never  be  able  to  put 
ourselves  down  when  we  long  for  Europe,  by  declar- 
ing that  the  scenery  of  the  Hudson  is  much  finer 
than  that  of  the  Rhine." 

Yet  they  resolved,  this  indomitably  good-natured 
couple,  that  they  would  be  just  even  to  the  elements, 
which  had  by  no  means  been  generous  to  them ; 
and  they  o^vned  that  if  so  noble  a  storm  had  cele- 
brated their  departure  upon  some  storied  river  from 
some  more  romantic  port  than  New  York,  they 
would  have  thought  it  an  admirable  thing.  Even 
whilst  they  contented  themselves,  the  storm  passed, 
and  left  a  veiled  and  humid  sky  overhead,  that  gave 
a  charming  softness  to  the  scene  on  which  their  eyes 
fell  when  they  came  out  of  the  saloon  again,  and 
took  their  places  with  a  largely  increased  compan- 
ionship on  the  deck. 


n 


■> 


THE  NIGHT   BOAT. 


61 


They  had  already  reached  that  part  of  the  river 
where  the  iiphinds  begin,  and  their  course  was  be- 
tween stately  walls  of  rocky  steepness,  or  wooded 
slopes,  or  grassy  hollows,  the  scene  forever  losing 
and  taking  grand  and  lovely  shape.  Wreaths  of 
mist  liung  about  the  tops  of  the  loftier  headlands, 
and  long  shadows  draped  their  sides.    As  the  night 


grew,  lights  t^vinkled  from  a  lonely  house  here  and 
there  in  the  valleys  ;  a  swarm  of  lamps  showed  a 
town  where  it  lay  upon  the  lap  or  at  the  foot  of  the 
hills.  Behind  them  stretched  the  great  gray  river, 
haunted  with  many  sails  ;  now  a  group  of  canal- 
boats  grappled  together,  and  having  an  air  of  cozi- 
ness  in  their  adventure  upon  this  strange  current 
out  of   their  own   sluggish  waters,  drifted  out   of 


62 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


sight ;  and  now  a  smaller  and  8low(;r  steamer, 
making  a  laborious  show  of  keeping  up  was  j)assed, 
and  reluctantly  fell  behind  ;  along  the  water's  edge 
rattled  and  hooted  the  frequent  trains.  Tliey  could 
not  tell  at  any  time  what  part  of  the  river  they 
were  on,  and  they  could  not,  if  they  would,  have 
made  its  beauty  a  matter  of  conscientious  observa- 
tion ;  but  all  the  more,  therefore,  they  deeply  en- 
joyed it  without  reference  to  time  or  place.  They 
felt  some  natural  pain  when  they  thought  that  they 
might  unwittingly  pass  the  scenes  that  Irving  has 
made  part  of  the  common  dream-land,  and  they 
would  fain  have  seen  the  lighted  windows  of  the 
house  out  of  which  a  cheerful  ray  has  penetrated  to 
so  many  hearts ;  but  being  sure  of  nothing,  as  they 
were,  they  had  the  comfort  of  finding  the  Tappan 
Zee  in  every  expanse  of  the  river,  and  of  discover- 
ing Sunny-Side  on  every  pleasant  slope.  By  virtue 
of  this  helplessness,  the  Hudson,  without  ceasing  to 
be  the  Hudson,  became  from  moment  to  monuMit  all 
fair  and  stately  streams  upon  which  they  had  voy- 
aged or  read  of  voyaging,  from  the  Nile  to  the  Mis- 
sissippi. There  is  no  other  travel  like  river  travel ; 
it  is  the  perfection  of  movement,  and  one  might 
well  desire  never  to  arrive  at  one's  destination. 
The  abundance  of  room,  the  free,  pure  air,  the  con- 
stant delight  of  the  eyes  in  the  changing  landscape, 
the  soft  tremor  of  the  boat,  so  steady  upon  her  keel, 
the  variety  of  the  little  world  on  board,  —  all  form 
a  charm  which  no  good  heart  in  a  sound  body  can 


THK   NIGHT   BOAT. 


63 


resist.  So,  whilst  the  twilight  held,  well  content, 
in  contiguous  chairs,  they  purred  in  flattery  of  their 
kindly  fate,  imagining  different  pleasures,  certainly, 
but  none  greater,  and  tasting  to  its  subtlest  flavor 
the  happiness  conscious  of  itself. 

Tlieir  own  satisfaction,  indeed,  Avas  so  interesting 
to  them  in  this  objective  light,  that  they  had  little 
desire  to  turn  from  its  contemplation  to  the  people 
around  them  ;  and  when  at  last  they  did  so,  it  was 
still  with  lingering  glances  of  self-recognition  and 
enjoyment.  They  divined  rightly  tliat  one  of  the 
main  conditions  of  their  i)resent  felicity  was  the  fact 
that  they  had  seen  so  much  of  time  and  of  the  world, 
that  they  had  no  longer  any  desire  to  take  behold- 
ing eyes,  or  to  nudve  any  sort  of  impressive  figure, 
and  they  understood  that  their  prosperous  love  ac- 
count(;d  as  nuich  as  years  and  travel  for  this  result. 
If  they  had  liad  a  h)ftier  opini(m  of  themselves, 
their  indifference  to  others  miglit  have  made  them 
offensive;  but  with  their  modest  estimate  of  their 
own  value  in  the  worhl,  tlu*y  could  have  all  the 
comfort  of  self-siitliciciicy,  without  its  vulgarity. 

''  ()  yes  I  "  said  liasil,  in  answer  to  some  apos- 
trophe to  their  blisH  from  Isabel,  ''  it  's  the  greatest 
imagimibl'.;  satisfaeti(ni  to  have  lived  past  certain 
things.  I  always  knew  that  I  was  not  a  very  hand- 
some or  otherwise  captivating  person,  but  I  can  re- 
member years  — now  blessedly  remote  —  when  I 
never  could  see  a  young  girl  without  hoping  she 
would  mistake  me  for  something  of   that  sort.     I 


64 


THEIR  WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


couldn't  help  desiring  that  some  fascination  of  mine, 
which  had  escaped  my  own  analysis,  would  have 
an  effect  upon  her.  I  dare  say  all  young  men  are 
so.  I  used  to  live  for  the  possible  interest  1  might 
inspire  in  your  sex,  Isabel.  They  controlled  my 
movements,  my  attitudes ;  they  forbade  me  re- 
pose ;  and  yet  I  believe  I  was  no  ass,  but  a  toler- 
ably sensible  fellow.  Blessed  be  marriage,  I  am 
free  at  last !  All  the  loveliness  that  exists  outside 
of  you,  dearest,  —  and  it  's  mighty  little,  —  is  mere 
pageant  to  me ;  and  I  thank  Pleaven  that  I  can 
meet  the  most  stylish  girl  v  upon  the  broad 
level  of  our  common  hunuin''  Besides,  it  seems 
to  me  that  our  experience  ot  i  .  has  ejected  us  in 
many  other  ways.  What  a  luxury  it  is  to  sit  here, 
and  reflect  that  we  do  not  want  any  of  these  peo- 
ple to  suppose  us  rich,  or  distinguished,  or  beautiful, 
or  well  dressed,  and  do  not  care  to  show  off  in  any 
sort  of  way  before  them  !  " 

This  content  was  heightened,  no  doubt,  by  a  just 
sense  of  their  contrast  to  the  group  of  people  near- 
est them,  —  a  young  man  of  the  sec.iid  or  third 
quality  and  two  young  girls.  The  eldest  of  these 
was  carrying  on  a  vivacious  flirtati(jn  with  the 
young  man,  who  was  apparently  an  acquaintance 
of  brief  standing ;  the  other  was  scar-^ely  more  than 
a  child,  and  sat  somewhat  abashed  at  the  sparkle 
of  the  coUo^ay.  They  were  conjeeturally  sisters 
going  home  from  some  visit,  and  not  skilled  in  the 
world,  but  of   a  certain   repute   in   their   country 


*■  * 


s 


THE  NIGHT   BOAT. 


65 


npiigliborliood  for  beauty  and  wit.  Tlie  young  man 
presently  gave  liinisylf  out  as  one  who,  in  pursuit 
of  trade  for  tlie  dry -goods  Ijouse  he  represented, 
had  travelled  many  thousands  of  miles  in  all  parts 
of  the  country.  The  encounter  was  visibly  that 
kind  of  adventure  which  both  would  treasure  up 
for  future  celebnition  to  their  different  friends ;  and 
it  liad  a  brilliancy  and  interest  which  they  could 
not  even  now  consent  to  keep  to  themselves.  They 
talked  to  each  other  and  at  all  the  c(nn])any  within 
hearing,  and  exchanged  curt  s|)eeches  which  had 
for  them  all  the  sensation  of  repartee. 

Youiui  Man.  They  say  that  beauty  una(h)rned 
is  {i(h>rned  the  most. 

Yoximi  W.yman  (bridling,  and  twitching  her  head 
from  side  to  side,  in  the  high  excitement  of  the 
dialogue).     Flattery  is  out  of  place. 

Youtuj  Man.  Well,  never  mind.  If  you  don't 
believe  me,  you  ask  your  mother  when  you  get 
home. 

(Titter  from  the  younger  sister.) 

Young  Woman  (scornfully).  Umpli !  my  mother 
has  no  control  over  m(i ! 

Young  Man.  Nobody  else  has,  either,  /  should 
say.    (Admiringly.) 

Young  Woman.  Yes,  you've  told  the  truth  for 
once,  for  a  wonder.  I'm  able  to  take  care  of  my- 
self,—  perfect'y.  (Almost  hoarse  with  a  sense  of 
sarcastic  performance.) 


66 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


Young  Man.  "  Whole  team  and  big  dog  under 
the  wagon,"  as  they  say  out  West. 


Fount/  Woman.  Better  a  big  dog  than  a  puppy, 
aui/  day. 

(Criggles  and  horror  from  tie  younger  sister,  sen- 


ft' 


ft 


THE  NIGHT   BOAT. 


67 


y***  ' 


)r- 


sation  in  the  young  man,  and  so  much  rapture  in 
the  young  woman  tliat  slie  drops  the  key  of  her 
state-room  from  lier  hand.  They  both  stoop,  and 
a  jocose  scuttle  for  it  ensues,  after  which  the  talld 
takes  an  autobiograpliical  turn  on  the  part  of  the 
young  man,  and  (h'ops  into  an  unintelHgible  nnir- 
mur.  All  !  poor  Real  Life,  which  I  love,  can  I 
make  others  share  the  delight  I  iind  in  thy  foolish 
and  insipid  face  ?) 

Not  far  from  this  group  sat  two  Hebrews,  one 
young  and  the  other  old,  talking  of  some  business 
out  of  which  the  latter  had  retired.  The  younger 
had  been  asked  his  opini(m  upon  some  point,  and 
he  was  expanding  with  a  flattered  consciousness  of 
the  elder's  perception  of  his  importance,  and  toady- 
ing to  him  with  the  pleasure  which  all  young  men 
feel  in  winning  the  favor  of  seniors  in  their  voca- 
tion. '*  Well,  as  I  was  a-say'n',  Isaac  don't  seem 
to  haf  no  natcheral  pent  for  the  glothing  business. 
Man  gomes  in  and  wands  a  goat," —  he  seemed  to 
be  speaking  of  a  garment  and  not  a  domestic  ani- 
mal, —  "  Isaac'll  zell  him  the  goat  he  wands  him 
to  puy,  and  he'll  make  him  believe  it  s  the  goat 
he  was  a  lookin'  for.  Well,  now,  that 's  wt?ll 
enough  as  far  as  it  goes ;  but  ifoa  know  and  / 
know,  Mr.  Rosenthal,  that  that 's  no  way  to  do 
business.  A  man  gan't  zugzeed  that  goes  upon 
that  brincible.  Id  's  wrong.  Id  's  easy  enough  to 
make  a  man  puy  the  goat  you  want  him  to,  if  ho 
wands  a  goat,  but  the  thing  is  to  make  him  -puy 


68 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


the  goat  that  you  wand  to  zell  when  he  dont  wand 
no  goat  at  all.  You've  asked  me  what  I  thought 
and  I've  dold  you.  Isaac'U  never  zugzeed  in  the 
redail  glothing-business  in  the  world  I  " 

"  Well,"  sighed  the  elder,  who  filled  his  arm- 
chair quite  full,  and  quivered  with  a  comfortable 
jelly-like  tremor  in  it,  at  every  pulsation  of  the  en- 
gine, "  I  was  afraid  of  something  of  the  kind.  As 
you  say,  Benjamin,  he  don't  seem  to  have  no  pent 
for  it.  And  yet  I  proughd  him  up  to  the  business  ; 
I  di'ained  him  to  it,  m3'self." 

Besides  these  talkers,  there  were  scattered  singly, 
or  grouped  about  in  twos  and  threes  and  fours,  the 
various  people  one  encounters  on  a  Hudson  River 
boat,  who  are  on  the  whole  different  from  the  pas- 
sengers on  other  rivers,  though  they  all  have  feat- 
ures in  common.  There  was  that  man  of  the  sud- 
den gains,  who  has  already  been  typified  ;  and 
there  was  also  the  smoother  rich  man  of  inherited 
wealth,  from  whom  you  can  somehow  know  the 
former  so  readily.  They  were  each  attended  by 
their  several  retinues  of  womankind,  the  daughters 
all  much  alike,  but  the  mothers  somewhat  differ- 
ent, 'i'hey  were  going  to  Saratoga,  where  perhaps 
the  exigencies  of  fashion  would  bring  them  ac- 
quainted, and  where  the  blue  blood  of  a  quarter  of 
a  century  would  be  kind  to  the  yesterday's  fluid  of 
warmer  hue.  There  was  something  pleasanter  in 
the  face  of  the  hereditary  aristocrat,  but  not  so 
strong,  nor,  altogether,  so  admirable ;  particularly 


THE   NIGHT   BOAT. 


69 


if  you  reflected  that  he  really  represented  nothing 
in  the  world,  no  great  culture,  no  political  influ- 
ence, no  civic  aspiration,  not  even  a  pecuniary 
force,  nothing  but  a  social  set,  an  alien  club-life,  a 
tradition  of  dining.  We  live  in  a  true  fairy-land 
after  all,  where  the  hoarded  treasure  turns  to  a 
heap  of  dry  leaves.  The  almighty  dollar  defeats 
itself,  and  Anally  buys  nothing  that  a  man  cares  to 
have.  The  very  highest  pleasure  that  such  an 
American's  money  can  purchase  is  exile,  and  to 
this  rich  man  doubtless  Europe  is  a  twice-told  tale. 
Let  us  clap  our  empty  pockets,  dearest  reader,  and 
be  glad. 

^^'^i  can  be  as  glad,  apj)arently,  and  with  the 
same  reason  as  the  poorly  dressed  young  man  stand- 
ing near  beside  tlie  guard,  whose  face  Basil  and 
Isabel  chose  to  fancy  that  of  a  jjoet,  and  concern- 
ing whom,  they  romancetl  that  he  was  going  home, 
wherever  his  home  was,  with  the  manuscript  of  a 
rejected  book  in  his  pocket.  They  imagined  him 
no  great  things  of  a  poet,  to  be  sure,  but  his  pen- 
sive face  claimed  delicate  feeling  for  him,  and  a 
gi'aceful,  s(>nd)re  fancy,  and  they  conjectured  un- 
consciously caught  llavoi-s  of  Tennyson  and  Brown- 
ing in  his  verse,  with  a  moderner  tint  from  Morris; 
for  was  it  not  a  story  out  of  mythology,  with  gods 
and  heroes  of  the  nineteenth  century,  that  he  was 
now  carrying  back  from  New  York  with  him  ? 
Basil  sketched  from  the  colors  of  his  own  long-^ 
accepted   disappointments  a  moving   little   picture 


|!r" 


70 


THEIR   WKDDING  JOURNEY. 


of  this  poor  imagined  i)oet'8  adventures  ;  with  what 
kindness  and  unkindness  he  had  been  put  to  shame 
by  publishers,  and  how,  descending  from  his  high 
hopes  of  a  book,  he  had  tried  to  sell  to  the  maga- 
zines some  of  the  shorter  pieces  out  of  the  "  And 
other  Poems  "  which  were  to  have  filled  up  the 
volume.  "  He 's  going  back  rather  stunned  and 
bewildered  ;  but  it 's  something  to  have  tasted  the 
city,  and  its  bitter  may  turn  to  sweet  on  his  pahite, 
at  last,  till  he  finds  himself  longing  for  the  tumult 
that  he  abhors  now.  Poor  fellow  !  one  compas- 
sionate cut-throat  of  a  publisher  even  asked  him  to 
lunch,  being  struck,  as  we  are,  with  something  fine 
in  his  face.  I  hope  he  's  got  somebody  who  believes 
in  him,  at  home.  Otherwise  lie'd  be  more  com- 
fortable, for  the  present,  if  he  went  over  the  railing 
there." 

So  the  play  of  which  they  were  both  actors  and 
spectators  went  on  about  them.  Like  all  passages 
of  life,  it  seemed  now  a  grotesque  mystery,  with  a 
bluntly  enforced  moral,  now  a  farce  of  the  broadest, 
now  a  latent  trag*^dy  lolded  in  the  disguises  of 
comedy.  All  the  elements,  indeed,  of  either  were 
at  work  there,  and  this  was  but  one  brief  scene  of 
the  immense  complex  drama  which  was  to  proceed 
so  variously  in  such  different  times  and  places,  and 
to  have  its  denouement  only  in  eternity.  The  con- 
trasts were  sharp :  each  gi'oup  had  its  travesty  in 
some  other ;  the  talk  of  one  seemed  the  rude 
burlesque,  the  bitter  satire  of  the  next ;  but  of  all 


THE  NIGHT   BOAT. 


these  parodies  none  was  so  terribly  effective  as  the 
two  women,  who  sat  in  the  midst  of  the  company, 
yet  were  somehow  distinct  from  the  rest.  One 
wore  the  deepest  black  of  widowhood,  the  other 
was  dressed  in  bridal  white,  and  they  were  both 
alike  awful  in  their  mockery  of  guiltless  sorrow  and 
guiltless  joy.  They  were  not  old,  but  the  soul  of 
youth  was  dead  in  their  pretty,  lamentable  faces^ 
and  ruin  ancient  as  sin  looked  from  their  eyes  ; 
their  talk  and  laughter  seemed  the  echo  of  an  in- 
numerable multitude  of  the  lost  haunting  the  worl(^ 
in  every  land  and  time,  each  solitary  forever,  yet 
all  bound  together  in  the  unity  of  an  imperishable 
slavery  and  shame. 

What  a  stale  effect !  What  hackneyed  charac- 
ters !  Let  us  be  glad  the  night  drops  her  curtain 
upon  the  cheap  spectacle,  and  shuts  these  with  the 
other  actors  from  our  view. 

Within  the  cabin,  through  which  Basil  and  Isabel 
now  slowly  moved,  there  were  numbers  of  people 
lounging  about  on  the  sofas,  in  various  attitudes  of 
talk  or  vacancy  ;  and  at  the  tables  there  were 
others  reading  ^''  Lothair,"  a  new  book  in  the  remote 
epoch  of  whicli  I  write,  and  a  very  fashionable  book 
indeed.  There  was  in  the  air  that  odor  of  paint 
and  carpet  which  prevails  on  steamboats  ;  the  glass 
drops  of  the  chandeliers  ticked  softly  against  each 
other,  as  the  vessel  shook  with  her  respiration,  like 
a  comfortable  sleeper,  and  imparted  a  delicious  feel- 
ing of  coziness  and  secui'ity  to  our  travellers. 


72 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


A  ft'w  hours  later  tliey  struggled  awjike  at  the 
sharp  sound  of  the  pilot's  bell  signaling  the;  engi- 
neer to  slow  the  boat.  There  was  a  moment  of 
perfect  silence  ;  then  all  the  drops  of  the  chande- 
liers in  tile  saloon  clashed  musically  together  ;  th(Mi 
fell  another  silence  ;  and  at  last  came  wild  cries  for 
help,  strongly  qualified  with  blasphemies  and  curses. 
"  Send  out  a  boat !  "  "  There  was  a  wonum  aboard 
that  steamboat !  "  "  Lower  your  boats  I  "  *'  Kun  a 
craft  right  down,  Avith  your  big  boat  I  "  '■''  Send 
out  a  boat  Jind  pick  up  the  crew  !  "  'I'he  cries  rose 
and  sank,  and  finally  ceased  ;  through  the  lattice 
of  the  state-room  window  some  lights  shone  faintly 
on  the  water  at  a  distance. 

*'  Wait  here,  Isabel !  "  said  her  husband.  "  We've 
run  down  a  boat.  We  don't  seem  hurt ;  but  I'll 
go  see.     I'll  be  back  in  a  minute." 

Isabel  had  emerged  into  a  world  of  dishabille,  a 
world  wildly  unbuttoned  and  unlaced,  where  it  was 
the  fashion  for  ladies  to  wear  their  hair  down  their 
backs,  and  to  walk  about  in  their  stockings,  and  to 
speak  to  each  other  without  introduction.  The 
place  with  which  she  had  felt  so  familiar  a  little 
while  before  was  now  utterly  estranged.  There 
was  no  moticm  of  the  boat,  and  in  the  momentary 
suspense  a  quiet  prevailed,  in  which  those  grotesque 
shapes  of  disarray  crept  noiselessly  round  whisper- 
ing panic-stricken  conjectures.  There  was  no  rush- 
ing to  and  fro,  nor  tumult  of  any  kind,  and  there 
was  not  a  man  to  be  seen,  for  apparently  they  had 


li> 


THE  NIGHT   BOAT. 


78 


all  gone  like  liasil  to  loarn  the  extent  of  tlie  calam- 
ity. A  mist  of  sleep  involved  the  whole,  and  it 
was  such  a  topsy-turvy  world  tliat  it  would  have 
schemed  only  another  dream-land,  but  that  it  wag 
marked  for  reality  by  one  signal  fact.  With  the 
rest  appeared  the  woman  in  bridal  white  and  the 
woman  in  widow's  black,  and  there,  amidst  the 
fright  that  made  all  otliers  friends,  and  for  aught 
that  most  knew,  in  the  j)resence  of  death  itself,  these 
two  moved  together  shumied  and  friendless. 

Somehow,  even  before  Basil  returned,  it  had  be- 
come known  to  Isabel  and  the  rest  that  their  own 
steamer  had  suffered  no  harm,  but  that  she  had 
struck  and  sunk  another  convoying  a  llotilla  of 
canal-boats,  from  which  those  alarming  cries  and 
curses  had  come.  The  steamer  was  now  lying  by 
for  the  small  boats  she  had  sent  out  to  pick  up  the 
crew  of  the  sunken  vessel. 

"  Why,  I  only  heard  a  little  tinkling  of  the  chan- 
deliers," said  one  of  the  ladies.  '*  Is  it  such  a  very 
slight  matter  to  run  down  another  boat  and  sink 
it?" 

She  appealed  indirectly  to  Basil^  who  answered 
lightly,  "  I  don't  think  you  ladies  ouglit  to  have 
been  disturbed  at  all.  In  running  over  a  common 
tow-boat  on  a  perfectly  clear  night  like  this  there 
should  have  been  no  noise  and  no  perceptible  jar. 
riiey  manage  better  on  the  Mississippi,  and  bolh 
boats  often  go  down  without  waking  the  lightest 
sleeper  on  board." 


74 


THEIR   WKDDING   JOURNEV. 


The  ladies,  perhaps  from  a  deficient  sense  of 
liiunor,  listened  with  undisguised  displeasure  to  this 
speech.  It  dispersed  them,  in  fact ;  some  turned 
away  to  bivouac  for  the  rest  of  the  night  upon  the 
arm-chairs  and  sofas,  while  others  returned  to  their 
rooms.  AVith  the  latter  went  Isabel.  "  Loclc  me 
in,  Basil,"  she  said,  with  a  bold  meekness,  "  and  if 
anything  more  happens  don't  wake  me  till  the  last 
moment."  It  was  hard  to  part  from  him,  but  she 
felt  that  his  vigil  would  somehow  be  useful  to  the 
boat,  and  she  confidingly  fell  into  a  sleep  that 
lasted  till  daylight. 

Meantime,  her  husband,  on  whom  she  had  tacitly 
devolved  so  great  a  responsibility,  went  forward 
to  the  promenade  in  front  of  the  saloon,  in  hopes 
of  learning  something  more  of  the  catastrophe  from 
the  people  whom  he  had  already  found  gathered 
there. 

A  large  part  of  the  passengers  were  still  there, 
seated  or  standing  about  in  earnest  colloquy.  They 
were  in  that  mood  which  follows  great  excitement, 
and  in  which  the  feeblest-minded  are  sure  to  lead 
the  talk.  At  such  times  one  feels  that  a  sen- 
sible frame  of  mind  is  unsympathetic,  and  if  ex- 
pressed, unpopular,  or  perhaps  not  quite  safe ;  and 
Basil,  warned  by  his  fate  -with  the  ladies,  listened 
gravely  to  the  voice  of  the  common  imbecility  and 
incoherence. 

The  principal  speaker  was  a  tall  person,  wearing 
a  silk  travelling-cap.     He  had  a  face  of  stupid 


THK   NIGHT    BOAT. 


75 


benignity  and  a  self-satisfied  smirk  ;  and  he  was 
formally  trying  to  put  at  his  ease,  and  hopelessly 
confusing  the  loutish  youth  before  him.  *'  You  say 
you  saw  the  whole  accident,  and  you're  probably 
the  only  passenger  that  did  see  it.  You'll  be  the 
most  important  witness  at  the  trial,"  he  ad(hMl,  as 
if  there  would  ever  be  any  trial  about  it.  '*  Now, 
how  did  the  tow-boat  hit  us  ?  " 

"  Well,  she  came  bows  on." 

"  Ah  !  bows  on,"  repeated  the  other,  with  great 
satisfaction  ;  and  a  little  murmur  of  "  Bows  on  I  " 
ran  round  the  listening  circle. 

"  That  is,"  added  the  witness,  "  it  seemed  as  if 
we  struck  her  amidships,  and  cut  her  in  two,  and 
sunk  her." 

"  Just  so,"  continued  the  examiner,  accepting 
the  explanation,  "  bows  on.  Now  I  want  to  ask 
if  you  saw  our  captain  or  any  of  the  crew  about  ?  " 

*'  Not  a  soul,"  said  the  witness,  with  the  solem- 
nity of  a  man  already  on  oath. 

"That'll  do,"  exclaimed  the  other.  "This 
gentleman's  experience  coincides  exactly  with  my 
own.  I  didn't  see  the  collision,  but  I  did  see  the 
cloud  of  steam  from  the  sinking  boat,  and  I  saw  her 
go  down.  There  wasn't  an  officer  to  be  found 
anywhere  on  board  our  boat.  I  looked  about  for 
the  captain  and  the  mate  myself,  and  couldn't  find 
either  of  thorn  high  or  low." 

"  The  officers  ought  all  to  have  been  sitting  here 
on  the  promenade  deck,"  suggested  one  ironical 
spirit  in  the  crowd,  but  no  one  noticed  him. 


TG 


THKIR   WKDDIXG   JOURNEY. 


Tlie  gentleman  in  the  silk  trtivelling-cap  now 
took  a  chair,  and  a  number  of  sympathetic  listeners 
drew  their  chairs  about  liim,  and  then  began  an 
intercliaiige  of  experience,  in  Avhich  each  related  to 
the  last  particular  all  that  he  felt,  tliought,  and 
said,  and,  if  nuirried,  wliat  his  wife  felt,  thought, 
and  said,  at  the  moment  of  the  calamity.  They 
tm  ni'd  the  disaster  over  and  over  in  their  talk,  and 
rolle<l  it  under  their  tongues.  Then  t/liev  reverted 
to  former  accidents  in  which  they  liad  l)een  con- 
cernetl  ;  and  tiie  silk-capped  gentleman  told,  to  the 
common  admiration,  of  a  fearful  escape  of  his,  on 
the  1  rie  Hoad,  from  being  thrown  down  a  steep 
embankment  fifty  feet  high  by  a  piece  of  rock  that 
had  fallen  on  the  tra'.k.  "•  Now  just  see,  gentle- 
men, w!:at  a  little  thing,  .umanly  speaking,  life  de- 
]>ends  upon.  If  that  old  wonum  had  been  able  to 
sleep,  and  hadn't  sent  that  boy  down  to  warn  the 
train,  we  should  have  run  into  the  rock  and  been 
dashed  to  j)ieces.  'J'he  j)assengers  made  up  a  purse 
for  the  bov,  a!ul  I  wrote  a  full  account  of  it  to  the 
papers."  • 

"•  Well,"  said  one  of  the  gi'oup,  a  man  in  a  hard 
hat,  '*  I  n(»ver  lie  down  on  a  steamboat  or  a  raili'oad 
train.     I  want  to  be  ready  for  \vhatever  hapj>ens." 

'i'he  otht  s  looked  at  this  speaker  with  interest, 
as  one  who  had  invented  a  safe  method  of  travel, 

"  I  hapi)ened  to  be  up  to-night,  but  I  almost  al- 
ways undress  and  go  to  bed,  just  as  if  I  were  in  my 
own  house,"    said   the  gentleman  of  the  silk  cap. 


THE   NIGHT    BOAT. 


77 


"  I  don't  say  your  way  isn't  the  best,  but  tluit  's  my 
way." 

The  champions  of  the  rival  systems  (U'bat<Ml  tlieir 
merits  witli  suavity  and  mutual  respect,  but  tliey 
met  with  scornful  silence  a  compromising  sj)irit  who 
held  that  it  was  better  to  throw  off  your  coat  and 
boots,  but  keep  your  pantaloons  on.  Meanwhile, 
the  steamer  was  hanging  idle  upon  the  current, 
against  which  it  now  and  then  stirred  a  carcU'ss 
wheel,  still  waiting  for  the  return  of  the  snuiU 
boats.  Thin  gray  clouds,  through  rifts  of  which  a 
star  sparkled  keenly  here  and  there,  veiled  the 
heavens  ;  shadowy  bluffs  loomed  up  on  either 
hand  ;  in  a  hollow  on  the  left  twinkled  a  drowsy 
little  town  ;  a  beautiful  stillness  lay  on  all. 

After  an  hour's  interval  a  shout  was  heard  from 
far  down  the  river;  then  later  tlu^  plash  of  oars; 
then  a  cry  hailing  the  approaching  boats,  and  tin; 
answer,  ''All  safe  I  "  Presentlv  the  boats  had 
come  alongside,  and  the  passengers  crowded  down 
to  the  guard  to  learn  the  di*tails  of  the  search. 
Basil  heard  a  hollow,  moaning,  gurgling  sound, 
regular  as  that  of  the  machinery,  for  sonu^  note  of 
which  he  mistook  it.  ''  Clear  the  gangway  there  I  " 
shouted  a  gruff  voice;  ''man  scalded  here!''  And 
a  burden  was  carried  by  from  which  lluttered,  with 
its  terrible  regularity,  that   utterance  of  mortal  an- 


g" 


isl 


ish. 


IV.isil  went  again  to  the  forward  i^ronienade,  and 


sat  di 


own  to  see  the  morninir  come. 


78 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


The  boat  swiftly  ascenderl  the  current,  and  pres- 
ently the  steeper  shores  were  left  behind  and  the 
banks  fell  away  in  long  upward  sloping  fields,  with 
farm-houses  and  with  stacks  of  harvest  dimly  visi- 
ble in  the  generous  expanses.  15y  and  by  they 
passed  a  fisherman  drawing  his  nets,  and  bending 
fnmi  his  boat,  there  near  Albany,  N.  Y.,  in  the  pic- 
turescpie  immortal  attitudes  of  Raphael's  (ialilean 
fisherman  ;  and  now  a  Hush  UKMUited  the  pale  fae(; 
of  the  cast,  anil  through  the  dewy  coolness  of  the 
dawn  there  came,  more  to  the  sight  than  any  other 
sense,  a  vague  menai^;  of  heat.  But  as  yet  the 
air  was  deliciously  fresh  and  sweet,  and  IJasil 
bathed  his  weariness  in  it,  thinking  with  a  certain 
luxuri(His  compassion  of  the  scalded  man,  and  how 
he  was  to  fare  that  day.  This  poor  wrtitch  seemed 
of  another  order  of  beinjjTs,  as  the  calami t(»us  always 
seem  to  the  hai)j)y,  and  Basil's  pity  was  quite  an 
abstraction  ;  which,  again,  autusod  and  shocked 
him,  and  lu;  asked  his  heart  of  bliss  to  consider  of 
sorrow  a  little  more  earnestly  as  the  lot  of  all  men, 
and  not  m(»relv  of  an  alien  creature  here  and  there. 
II'  dutifidly  tried  to  imagine  another  issue  to  the 
disaster  of  the  night,  and  to  realize  himself  smldenly 
bereft  of  her  who  so  filled  his  life.  lie  bade  his 
soul  rememVu'r  that,  in  the  security  of  sleep,  Death 
had  passed  them  both  so  close  that  his  presence 
might  well  have  chilled  their  dreams,  as  the  iceberg 
that  grazes  the  ship  in  the  night  freezes  all  the  air 
aijout  it.     But  it  was  quite  idle :  where  love  was, 


THE   NIGHT    BOAT. 


70 


life  only  was ;  and  sense  and  spirit  alike  put  aside 
the  burden  tluit  he  Avould  have  laid  upon  them  ; 
his  revery  reflected  with  delielous  eap»iee  the  looks, 
the  tones,  the  movements  that  he  loved,  and  bore 
him  far  away  from  the  sad  images  that  he  had  in- 
vited to  mirror  themselves  in  it. 


IV. 


A   DAY  S   RAILROADING. 


^""""^—^.^ 


IIaim»iness 
has  com- 
monly a 
good  appe- 
tite ;  and 
the  thouglit 
of  the  for- 
t  u  n  a  t  e  1  y 
en<U^d  ad- 
ventures of 
tlie     night, 

tlie  fresh  morning  air,  and  the  content  of  their  own 
hearts,  gifted  our  friends,  by  the  time  the  boat 
reached  Albany,  with  a  wholesome  hunger,  so  that 
they  d«^bated  with  spirit  the  questioii  of  breakfast 
and  the  best  place  of  breakfasting  in  a  city  which 
neither  of  them  knew,  save  in  the  most  fugitive 
and  skc'tchy  way. 

They  decided  at  last,  in  view  of  the  early  depart- 
ure of  the  train,  and  the  probability  that  they 
would  be  more  hurried  at  a  hotel,  to  breakfast  at 
the  station,  and  thither  they  went  and  took  places 
at  one  of  the  many  tables  nnthm,  where  they  seemed 


. 


A   DAY  S   RAILROADING. 


81 


to  liave  been  expected  only  by  the  flies.  The  wait- 
ress phiinly  had  not  looked  for  them,  and  for  a  time 
found  their  presence  so  incredible  that  she  would 
not  acknowledge  the  rattling  that  Hasil  was  obliged 
to  make  on  his  glass.  Then  it  appeared  that  the 
cook  would  not  believe  in  them,  and  he  did  not  send 
them,  till  they  were  quite  faint,  the  peppery  and 
muddy  draught  which  impudently  affected  to  be 
coffee,  the  viily  slices  of  fugacious  potatoes  slipping 
about  in  tluur  shallow  dish  and  skillfully  evading 
pursuit,  the  pieces  of  beef  that  simulated  steak,  the 
hot,  greasy  biscuit,  steaming  evilly  up  into  the 
face  when  opened,  and  then  soddening  into  masses 
of  condensed  dyspepsia. 

The  wedding-journeyers  looked  at  each  other 
with  eyes  of  sad  amaze.  They  bowed  tluMuselves 
for  a  moment  to  the  viands,  and  tluMi  by  an  equal 
impulse  refrained.  They  were  sufficiently  young, 
they  were  happy,  they  were  hungry  ;  natun*  is 
great  and  strong,  but  art  is  greater,  and  before 
these  triumphs  of  the  cook  at  the  Albany  depot  ap- 
petite succumbed.  By  a  terrible  tour  de  force  th^y 
swallowed  the  fierce  and  turbid  li«pior  in  their  cups, 
and  then  speculatiMl  fantastically  upon  the  charai;- 
ter  and  history  of  the  materials  of  that  breakfast. 

Presently  Isabel  j)aused,  played  a  littl(»  with  her 
knife,  and,  after  a  moment,  looked  up  i\i  her  hus- 
band with  an  arch  regard  and  said  :  '"  I  was  just 
thinking  of  a  small  station  somewhere  in  the  South 
of  France  where  our  train  once  sto[)p(»d  for  break- 


82 


TIIFJR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


fast.  I  rcmcMiiber  the  freshness  and  brightness  of 
everything  on  the  Httle  tahU's,  —  tlie  j)lates,  the 
napkins,  the  gleaming  half-hottk's  of  wine.  They 
seemed  to  have  been  pre])aring  that  breakfast  for 
us  from  the  beginning  of  time,  and  we  were  hardly 
seated  before  they  served  us  witli  great  cups  of  cnfe- 
au-liilt^  and  the  sweetest  rolls  and  butter  ;  then  a 
delicate  cutlet,  with  an  unspeakable  gravy,  and  po- 
tatoes,—  such  potatoes!  Dear  me,  how  little  I  ate 
of  it  I  I  wish,  for  once,  IM  had  your  appetite, 
Basil  ;  1  do  indeed." 

She  ended  with  a  he.artless  laugh,  in  which,  de- 
spite the  ti'agical  contrast  her  words  had  suggi'stt'd, 
Basil  finally  joined.  So  much  amazement  had 
probably  never  been  got  before  out  of  the  misery 
inflicted  in  that  place  ;  but  their  lightni'ss  did  not 
at  all  commend  them.  The  waitress  had  not  like<l 
it  from  the  first,  and  had  served  them  with  reluc- 
tance ;  and  the  proprietor  did  not  like  it,  and  kej)t 
his  eye  upon  them  as  if  he  believed  them  about  to 
escape  without  ])ayment.  Ib're,  then,  they  had  en- 
forced a  great  fact  of  travelling,  —  that  peopK'  who 
serve  the  pid)rK'  are  kindly  and  pleasuiit  in  propor- 
tion as  tliey  serve  it  well.  The  unjust  and  the 
inellicieiii  liave  always  that  C()ns*'iousness  of  evil 
wliich  will  not  let  a  man  forgive  his  victim,  or  like 
him  to  be  cheerful. 

Our  friends,  however,  did  not  heat  themselves 
over  the  fact.  There  was  already  such  heat  from 
without,  even  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  that 


A    DAY  S   RAILROADING. 


88 


they  chose  to  be  as  cool  as  possible  in  mind,  and 
they  j)lacidly  took  their  places  in  the  train,  which 
had  been  made  np  for  departure.     They  had  delib- 
erately rejected  the  notion  of  a  drawing-room  car  as 
affording  a  less  varied  prospect  of  humanity,  and  as 
being  less  in  the  spirit  of  ordinary  American  travel. 
Now,  in  reward,  they  found  themselves  quite  com- 
fortable in  the  common  pass,»nger-car,  and  disposed 
to  view  the  scenery,  into  which  they  struck  an  hour 
after   leaving    the   city,    with    much   complacency. 
There  was  sufficient  drauglit  through  the  open  win- 
dow   to    make    the    heat    tolerable,  and  the   great 
brooding  warmth  gave  to  the  Iandscaj)e  the  charm 
which  it  alone  can  impart.     It  is  a  landscape  that  I 
greatly  love  for  its  mild  beauty  and  tran<piil  pic- 
turcsqueness,  and  it  is  in  luMior  of  our  friends  that  I 
sav  they  enioved  it.     Thon;  an*  nowhere  any  con- 
siderable  hills,  but  everywheri^  generous  slopes  smd 
pleasant  hollows  and  the  wide  meadows  of  a  graz- 
ing country,  with  the  ]>retty  brown  Mohawk  River 
rippling  down  through  all,  and  at  frequent  intervals 
the  life  of  the  canal,  now  near,  now  far  away,  with 
the  lazy  boats  that  seem  not  to  stir,  and  the  horses 
that  the  train  ])asses  with  a  whirl,  and  leaves  slowly 
ste])ping  forward    and    swiftly  slipj)ing    backward. 
There  are  farms  that  had  once,  or  still  have,  the 
romancHi  to  them  of  biMug  Dutch  farms,  —  if  tiiere 
is  any   romance  in  that,  —  and    one  conjectures  a 
Dutch    tin. ft    in    their    waving   grass    and    grain. 
Spaces   of    woodland   here   and    there   dapple    the 


84 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


*. 


\  I 


slopes,  and  the  cozy  red  farm-houses  repose  by  the 
side  of  their  capacious  red  barns.  Truly,  there  is 
uo  ground  on  which  to  defend  tlie  idleness,  and  yet 
as  the  train  strives  furiously  onward  amid  these 
scenes  of  fertility  and  abundance,  I  like  in  fan^jy 
to  loiter  behind  it,  and  to  saunter  at  will  up  and 
down  the  landscape.  I  stop  at  the  farm-yard  gates, 
and  sit  upon  the  porches  or  thresholds,  and  am 
served  Avith  cups  of  buttermilk  by  old  Dutch  ladies 
who  have  done  their  morning's  work  and  have  lei- 
sure to  be  knitting  or  sewing  ;  or  if  there  are  no  old 
ladies,  with  decent  caps  upon  their  gray  hair,  then 
I  do  not  complain  if  the  drink  is  brought  me  by 
some  red-cheeked,  comely  young  girl,  out  of  Wash- 
ington Irving's  pages,  with  no  cap  on  her  golden 
braids,  who  miiTors  my  diffidence,  and  takes  an  at- 
titude of  pretty  awkwardness  while  she  waits  till  I 
have  done  drinking.  In  the  same  easily  contented 
spirit  as  I  lounge  through  the  barn-yard,  if  I  find 
the  old  hens  gone  about  their  family  affairs,  I  do 
not  mind  a  meadow-lark's  singing  in  the  top  of  the 
elm- tree  beside  the  pump.  In  these  excursions  the 
watch-dogs  know  me  for  a  harmless  person,  and  will 
not  open  their  eyes  as  they  lie  coiled  up  in  the  sun 
before  the  gate.  At  all  the  places,  I  have  the  peo- 
ple keep  bees,  and,  in  the  garden  full  of  worthy 
pot-herbs,  such  idlers  in  the  vegetable  world  as 
hollyhocks  and  larkspurs  and  four-o'clocks,  near  a 
great  bed  in  which  the  asparagus  has  gone  to  sleep 
for  the  season  with  a  di-eam  of  delicate  spray  hang- 


A   DAY  S   RAILROADFXG. 


85 


injj  over  it.  I  walk  unmolested  throujjli  the  farm- 
er's  tall  grass,  aiul  ride  with  him  upon  the  perilous 
seat  of  his  voluble  mowing-niachinc!,  and  learn  to 
my  heart's  content  that  his  name  b(^gins  with  Van, 
and  that  his  family  has  owned  that  farm  ever  since 
the  days  of  the  Patroon  ;  which  I  dare  say  is  not 
true.  Then  I  fall  asleep  in  a  corner  of  the  hay- 
field,  and  wake  up  on  the  tow-path  of  the  canal  be- 
side that  wonderfully  lean  horse,  whose  bones  you 
cannot  count  only  because  they  are  so  many.  Me 
never  wakes  up,  but,  with  a  faltering  under-lip  and 
half-shut  eyes,  hobbles  stiffly  on,  unconscious  of  his 
anatomical  interest.  The  ca})tain  hospitably  asks 
me  on  board,  with  a  twist  of  the  rudder  swiuixinji 
the  stern  of  the  boat  up  to  the  path,  so  that  I  can 
step  on.  She  is  laden  with  flour  from  the  valley  of 
the  (lenesee,  and  may  have  started  on  her  voyage 
shortly  after  the  canal  was  made.  She  is  succinctly 
manned  by  the  captain,  the  driver,  and  the  cook,  a 
fiery-haired  lady  of  imperfect  temper ;  and  the 
cabin,  which  I  explore,  is  plainly  furnished  with  a 
cook-stove  and  a  flask  of  whiskey.  Nothing  but 
profane  language  is  allowed  on  board  ;  and  so,  in  a 
life  of  wicked  jollity  and  ease,  we  glide  impercepti- 
bly down  the  canal,  unvexed  by  the  far-otf  future 
of  arrival. 

Such,  I  say,  are  my  own  unambitious  mental 
pastimes,  but  I  am  aware  that  less  superficial 
spirits  could  not  be  satisfied  with  them,  and  I  do 
not  pretend  that  my  wedding-journeyers  were  so. 


m 


86 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


They  cast  an  absurd  poetry  over  the  landscape  ; 
they  invited  themselves  to  be  reminded  of  passaj^es 
of  European  travel  by  it ;  and  they  placed  villas 
and  castles  and  palaces  upon  all  the  eligible  build- 
ing-sites. Ashamed  of  these  devices,  presently, 
liasil  patriotically  tried  to  reconstruct  the  Dutch 
and  Indian  past  of  the  Mohawk  Valley,  but  hero 
he  was  foiled  by  the  immense  ignorance  of  his  wife, 
who,  as  a  true  American  woman,  knew  nothing  of 
the  history  of  her  own  country,  and  less  than  noth- 
ing of  the  barbarous  regions  beyond  the  borders 
of  her  native  province.  She  proved  a  bewilder- 
ing labyrinth  of  error  concerning  the  events  which 
liasil  mentioned ;  and  she  had  never  even  heard  of 
the  massacres  by  the  French  and  Indians  at  Sche- 
nectady, which  he  in  his  boyhood  had  known  so 
vividly  that  he  was  scalped  every  night  in  his 
dreams,  and  woke  up  in  the  morning  expecting  to 
see  marks  of  the  tomahawk  on  the  head-board.  So, 
failing  at  last  to  extract  any  sentiment  from  the 
scenes  without,  they  turned  their  faces  from  the 
window,  and  looked  about  them  for  amusement 
within  the  car. 

It  was  in  all  respects  an  ordinary  earful  of  hu- 
man beings,  and  it  was  perhaps  the  more  worthy 
to  be  studied  on  that  account.  As  in  literature 
the  true  artist  will  shun  the  use  even  of  real  events 
if  they  are  of  an  improbable  character,  so  the  sin- 
cere observer  of  man  will  not  desire  to  look  upon 
his  heroic  or  occasional  phases,  but  will  seek  him  in 


A  day's  railkoadinq. 


87 


his  liabltiial  moodH  of  vacancy  and  tiresomeness. 
To  nie,  at  any  rate,  he  is  at  such  times  very  pre- 
cious; and  I  never  perceive  him  to  be  so  much  a 
man  and  a  brother  as  when  1  feel  tiie  pressure  of 
his  vast,  natural,  unatl'ected  (hdhiess.  'J'lien  I  am 
able  to  enter  confidently  into  his  life  and  iidiabit 
there,  to  think  his  shallow  and  feeble  thou'dits,  to 
be  moved  by  his  dumb,  stupid  de-iires,  to  be  dindy 
illumineil  by  his  stinted  inspirations,  to  share  his 
foolish  prejudices,  to  practict^  his  obtuse  sellishness. 
Yes,  It  is  a  very  amusing  world,  if  you  do  not  re- 
fuse to  be  amused  ;  and  our  friends  were  very  will- 
ing to  be  entertained.  They  delighted  in  the  pre- 
cise, thick-fingered  old  hidies  who  bought  sweet 
aj)ples  of  the  boys  come  jiboard  with  baskets,  and 
who  were  so  h)ng  in  finding  the  right  change,  that 
our  travellers,  leaping  in  thought  with  the  boys 
from  the  moving  train,  felt  that  they  did  so  at  tha 
peril  of  their  lives.  'J'hen  they  were  interested  in 
people  who  went  out  and  found  their  friends  wait- 
ing for  them,  or  else  did  not  find  them,  and  wan- 
dt?red  disconsolatttly  up  and  down  before  the  coun- 
try stations,  carpet-bag  in  hand  ;  in  women  who 
came  aboard,  and  were  awkwardly  shaken  hands 
with  or  sheepishly  kissed  by  those  who  hastily  got 
seats  for  them,  and  placcnl  their  bags  or  their  ba- 
bies in  their  laps,  and  turned  for  a  nod  at  the 
door ;  in  young  ladies  who  were  seen  to  places  by 
young  men  (the  latter  seemed  not  to  care  if  the 
train  did  go  ofl'   with  them),   and   then  threw  up 


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Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  873-4503 


6^ 


88 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


\\\ 


their  windows  and  talked  with  girl-friends  on  the 
platform  \vithout,  till  the  train  began  to  move,  and 
at  last  turned  with  gleaming  eyes  and  moist  red 
lips,  and  panted  hard  in  the  excitement  of  thinking 

about  it,  and  could  not  calm 
themselves  to  the  dull  level  of 
the  travel  around  them  ;  in  the 
conductor,  coldly  and  inacces- 
sibly vigilant,  as  he  Avent  his 
rounds,  reacliing  blindly  for  the 
tickets  with  one  hand  while 
he  bent  his  head  from  time  to 
time,  and  listened  with  a  faint, 
sarcastic  sinile  to  the  questions  of  passengers  who 
supposed  they  were  going  to  get  some  information 
out  of  him ;  in  the  train-boy,  who  passed  through 
on  his  many  errands  with  prize  candies,  gum-drops, 
pop-corn,  papers  and  magazines,  and  distributed 
books  and  the  police  journals  with  a  blind  impar- 
tiality, or  a  prodigious  ignorance,  or  a  supernat- 
ural perception  of  character  in  those  who  received 
them. 

A  through  train  from  East  to  West  presents 
some  peculiar  features  as  well  as  the  traits  common 
to  all  railway  travel ;  and  our  friends  decided  that 
this  was  not  a  very  well-dressed  company,  and 
wouM  contrast  with  the  people  on  an  express-train 
between  Boston  and  New  York  to  no  better  advan- 
tage than  these  would  show  beside  the  .average 
passengei*s  between   London  and   Paris.     And  it 


».' 


A  DAY  S   RAILROADING. 


89 


seems  true  that  on  a  westering  line,  the  blacking 
fades  gradually  from  the  boots,  the  hat  softens  and 
sinks,  the  coat  loses  its  rigor  of  cut,  and  the  whole 
person  lounges  into  increasing  informality  of  cos- 
tume. I  speak  of  the  undressful  sex  alone  :  woman, 
wherever  she  is,  appears  in  the  last  attainable  ef- 
fects of  fashion,  which  are  now  all  but  telegraphic 
and  universal.  But  most  of  the  passengers  here 
were  men,  and  they  were  plainly  of  the  free-and 
easy  West  rather  than  the  dapper  East.  They 
wore  faces  thoughtful  with  the  problem  of  buying 
cheap  and  selling  dear,  and  they  could  be  kno\vn 
by  their  silence  from  the  loquacious,  acquaintance- 
making  way-travellers.  In  these,  the  mere  coming 
aboard  seemed  to  beget  an  aggressively  confidential 
mood.  Perhaps  they  clutched  recklessly  at  any 
means  of  relieving  their  ennui ;  or  they  felt  that 
they  might  here  indulge  safely  in  the  pleasures  of 
autobiography,  so  dear  to  all  of  us  ;  or  else,  in  view 
of  the  many  possible  catastrophes,  they  desired  to 
leave  some  little  memory  of  themselves  behind. 
At  any  rate,  whenever  the  train  stopped,  the  wed- 
ding-journeyers  caught  fragments  of  the  personal 
histories  of  their  fellow-passengers  which  had  been 
rehearsing  to  those  that  sat  next  the  narrators.  It 
was  no  more  than  fair  that  these  should  somewhat 
magnify  themselves,  and  put  the  best  complexion 
on  their  actions  and  the  worst  upon  their  suffer- 
ings ;  that  they  should  all  appear  the  luckiest  or 
the  unluckiest,  the  healthiest  or  the  sickest,  people 


90 


THEIR    WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


that  ever  were,  and  should  all  have  made  or  lost 
the  most  money.  There  was  a  prevaiUng  desire 
among  them  to  make  out  that  they  came  from  or 
were  going  to  some  very  large  place ;  and  our 
friends  fancied  an  actual  mortification  in  the  face 
of  a  modest  gentleman  who  got  out  at  Penelope 
(or  some  other  insignificant  classical  station,  in  the 
ancient  Greek  and  Roman  part  of  New  York 
State),  after  having  listened  to  the  life  of  a  some- 
what rustic-looking  person  who  had  described  him- 
self as  belonging  near  New  York  City. 

IJasil  also  found  diversion  in  the  tender  cou- 
ples, who  publicly  comported  themselves  as  if  in  a 
sylvan  solitude,  and,  as  it  had  been  on  the  bank  of 
some  umbrageous  stream,  far  from  the  ken  of  en- 
vious or  unsympathetic  eyes,  reclined  upon  each 
other's  shoulders  and  slept ;  but  Isabel  declared 
that  this  behavior  was  perfectly  indecent.  She 
granted,  of  course,  that  they  were  foolish,  innocent 
people,  who  meant  no  offense,  and  did  not  feel 
guilty  of  an  impropriety,  but  she  said  that  this  sort 
of  thing  was  a  national  reproach.  If  it  were 
merely  rustic  lovers,  she  should  not  care  so  much ; 
but  you  saw  people  who  ought  to  know  better, 
well-dressed,  stylish  people,  flaunting  their  devotion 
in  the  face  of  the  world,  and  going  to  sleep  on 
each  other's  shoulders  on  every  railroad  train.  It 
was  outrageous,  it  was  scandalous,  it  was  really  in- 
famous. Before  she  would  allow  herself  to  do  such 
a  thing  she  would  —  well,  she  hardly  knew  what 


A   DAY  S   RAILROADING. 


91 


she  would  not  do  ;  she  would  have  a  divorce,  at 
any  rate.  She  wondered  that  Basil  could  laugh  at 
it ;  and  he  would  make  her  hate  him  if  he  kept  on. 

From  the  seat  behind  their  own  they  were  now 
made  listeners  to  tlie  history  of  a  ten  weeks'  ty- 
phoid fever,  from  the  moment  when  the  narrator 
noticed  that  he  had  not  felt  very  well  for  a  day 
or  two  back,  and  all  at  once  a  kind  of  shiver 
took  him,  till  he  lay  fourteen  days  perfectly  insen- 
sible, and  could  eat  nothing  but  a  little  pounded 
ice  —  and  his  wife  —  a  small  woman,  too  —  used  to 
lift  him  back  and  forth  between  the  bed  and  sofa 
like  a  feather,  and  the  neighbors  did  not  know  half 
the  time  whether  he  was  dead  or  alive.  This  his- 
tory, from  which  not  the  smallest  particular  or  the 
least  significant  symptom  of  the  case  was  omitted, 
occupied  an  hour  in  recital,  and  was  told,  as  it 
seemed,  for  the  entertainment  of  one  who  had  been 
five  minutes  before  it  begiin  a  stranger  to  the  liis- 
torian. 

At  last  the  train  came  to  a  stand,  and  Isabel 
wailed  forth  in  accents  of  desperation  the  words, 
"  O,  disgusting  !  "  The  monotony  of  the  narrative 
in  the  seat  behind,  fatally  combining  with  the  heat 
of  the  day,  had  lulled  her  into  slumbers  from  which 
she  awoke  at  the  stopping  of  the  train,  to  find  her 
head  resting  tenderly  upon  her  husband's  shoulder. 

She  confronted  his  merriment  with  eyes  of 
mournful  rebuke  ;  but  as  she  could  not  find  him, 
by  the  harshest  construction,  in  the  least  to  blame, 
she  was  silent. 


92 


THEIR    VVKDDIXG   JOURNEY. 


"  Never  mind,  dear,  never  mind,"  he  coaxed, 
"  you  were  really  not  responsible.  It  was  fatigue, 
destiny,  the  spite  of  fortune,  —  whatever  you  like. 
In  the  case  of  the  others,  whom  you  despise  so 
justly,  I  dare  say  it  is  sheer,  disgraceful  affection. 
I  Jut  see  that  ravishing  placard,  swinging  from  the 


roof :  '  This  train  stops  twenty  minHites  for  dinner 
at  Utica.'  In  a  few  minutes  more  we  shall  be  at 
Utica.  If  they  have  anything  edible  there,  it  shall 
never  contract  my  powers.  I  could  dine  at  the 
Albany  station,  even." 

In  a  little  while  they  found  themselves  in  an 
airy,  comfortable  dining-room,  eating  a  dinner, 
which  it  seemed  to  them  France  in  the  flush  of  her 
prosperity  need  not  have  blushed  to  serve ;  for  if  it 
wanted  a  little  in  the  last  graces  of  art,  it  redeemed 


A  DAY  S  RAILROADING. 


93 


itself   in  abundance,  variety,   and  whoiesonieness. 
At  the  elbow  of  every  famishing  passenger  stood  a 
beneficent  coal-black  glossy  fairy,  in  a  white  linen 
apron  and  jacket,  serving  him  with  that  alacrity 
and  kindliness  and  grace   which  make  the  negro 
waiter  the  master,  not  the 
slave  of  his  calling,  which 
disenthrall   it   of    servility, 
and    constitute    him    your 
eager   host,   not   your  me- 
nial, for  the  momer,  o.   From 
table  to  table  passed  a  calm- 
ing influence  in  the  person 
of  the  proprietor,   Avho,  as 
he   took  his   richly  earned 
money,  checked  the  rising 
fears   of  the  guests  by  re- 
peated  proclamations   that 
there  was  plenty  of    time, 
and    that    he   would   give 
them  due  warning  before  the  train  started.     Those 
who  had  flocked  out  of  the  cars,  to  prey  Avith  beak 
and  claw,  as  the  vulture-like  fashion  is,  upon  every- 
thing in   reach,  remained  to  eat   like   Christians; 
and  even  a   poor,  scantily-Englished   Frenchman, 
who  wasted  half  his  time  in  trying  to  ask  how  long 
the  cars  stopped  and  in  looking  at  his  watch,  made 
«.  good  diimer  in  spite  of  himself. 

"  O  Basil,  Basil !  "   cried  Isabel,  when  the  train 
was  again  in  motion,  "  have  we  really  dined  once 


94 


THEIR    WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


•  ! 


more  ?  It  seems  too  good  to  be  true.  Cleanliness, 
plenty,  wholesomeness,  civility  !  Yes,  as  you  say, 
they  cannot  be  civil  where  they  are  not  just ;  hon- 
esty and  courtesy  go  together ;  and  wherever  they 
give  you  outrageous  things  to  eat,  they  ackl  in- 
digestible insults.  Basil,  dear,  don't  be  jealous ; 
I  shall  never  meet  him  again  ;  but  I'm  in  love  >/ith 
that  black  waiter  at  our  table.  I  never  ?aw  such 
perfect  manners,  such  a  winning  and  affectionate 
politeness,  lie  made  me  feel  that  every  mouthful 
I  ate  was  a  personal  favor  to  K'ni.  What  a  com- 
plete gentleman !  There  ought  never  to  be  a  white 
waiter.  None  but  negroes  are  able  to  render  their 
service  a  pleasure  and  distinction  to  you." 

So  they  prattled  on,  doing,  in  their  eagerness  to 
be  satisfied,  a  homage  perhaps  beyond  its  desert  to 
the  good  dinner  and  the  decent  service  of  it.  But 
here  they  erred  in  the  right  direction,  and  I  find 
nothing  more  admirable  in  their  behavior  through- 
out a  wedding  journey  which  certainly  had  its 
trials,  than  their  willingness  to  make  the  very  best 
of  whatever  would  suffer  itself  to  be  made  any- 
thing at  all  of.  They  celebrated  its  pleasures  with 
magnanimous  excess,  they  passed  over  its  griefs 
with  a  wise  forbearance.  That  Avhicli  they  found 
the  most  difficult  of  management  was  the  want  of 
incident  for  the  most  part  of  the  time ;  and  I  who 
write  their  history  might  also  sink  under  it,  but 
that  I  am  su]»ported  by  the  fact  that  it  is  so  typical 
in  tills  respect.     I  even  imagine,  that  ideal  reader 


A   DAY  S   RAILROADING. 


95 


for  whom  one  ^v^ites  as  yaNViiing  over  these  baiTen 
details  with  the  life-like  wearinoss  of  an  actual 
travelling  conij)anion  of  theirs.  Their  own  silence 
often  sutficed  my  wedded  lovers,  or  then,  when 
there  was  absolutely  nothing  to  engage  them,  they 
fell  back  upon  the  story  of  their  love,  which  they 
•were  never  tired  of  hearing  as  they  severally  knew 
it.  Let  it  not  be  a  reproach  to  human  nature  or  to 
me  if  I  say  that  there  was  something  in  the  com- 
fort of  having  well  dined  which  now  touched  the 
springs  of  sentiment  Avith  magical  effect,  and  that 
they  had  never  so  rejoiced  in  these  tender  remi- 
niscences. 

They  had  planned  to  stop  over  at  Rochester  till 
the  morrow,  that  they  might  arrive  at  Niagara  by 
daylight,  and  at  Utica  they  had  suddenly  resolved 
to  make  the  rest  of  the  day's  journey  in  a  drawing- 
room  car.  The  change  gave  them  an  added  reason 
for  content ;  and  they  realized  how  much  they  had 
previously  sacrificed  to  the  idea  of  travelling  in  the 
most  American  manner,  without  achieving  it  after 
all,  for  this  seemed  a  touch  of  Americanism  beyond 
the  old-fashioned  car.  They  reclined  in  luxury 
upon  the  easy-cushioned,  revolving  chairs ;  they 
surveyed  with  infinite  satisfaction  the  elegance  of 
the  flying-parlor  in  which  they  sat,  or  turned  their 
contented  regard  through  the  broad  plate-glass 
windows  upon  the  landscape  without.  They  said 
that  none  but  Americans  or  enchanted  princes  in 
the  "Arabian  Nights"  ever  travelled  in  such  state ; 


96 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


and  when  the  stewards  of  the  car  came  round  suc- 
cessively with  tropical  fruits,  ice-creams,  and  claret- 
puncheSf  they  felt  a  heightened  assurance  that  they 
were  either  enchanted  princes  —  or  Americans. 
There  were  more  ladies  and  more  fashion  than  in 
the  other  cars  ;  and  prettily  dressed  children  played 
about  on  the  carpet ;  but  the  general  appearance 
of  the  passengers  hardly  suggested  greater  wealth 
than  elsewhere  ;  and  they  were  plainly  in  that  car 
because  they  were  of  the  American  race,  which 
finds  nothing  too  good  for  it  that  its  money  can 
buy. 


V. 


THE   ENCHANTED   CITY,   AND  BEYOND. 


They  knew 
none  of  the  ho- 
tels in  Roches- 
ter, and  they 
had  chosen  a 
certain  one  in 
reliance  upon 
their  hand- 
book. When 
they  named  it, 
there  stepped 
forth  a  porter 
of  an  incredibly  cordial  and  pleasant  countenance, 
who  took  their  travelling-bags,  and  led  them  to 
the  omnibus.  As  they  were  his  only  passengers, 
the  porter  got  inside  ^vith  them,  and  seeing  their 
interest  in  the  streets  through  which  they  rode, 
he  descanted  in  a  strain  of  cheerful  pride  upon 
the  city's  prosperity  and  character,  and  gave 
the  names  of  the  people  who  lived  in  the  finer 
houses,  just  as  if  it  had  been  an  Old-World  town, 
and  he  some  eager  historian  expecting  reward  for 
his  comment  upon  it.     He  cast  quite  a  glamour 

7 


98 


THKIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


II 


n  11 


over  Rochester,  so  that  in  passing  a  body  of  water, 
bordered  by  liouses,  and  overlooked  by  odd  bal- 
conies and  gidleries,  and  crossed  in  the  distance  by 
a  bridge  upon  which  otiier  houses  were  built,  they 
boldly  declared,  being  at  their  wit's  end  for  a  com- 
parison, and  taken  with  the  unhoped-for  pictur- 
esqueness,  that  it  put  them  in  mind  of  Verona. 
Thus  they  reached  their  hotel  in  almost  a  spirit  of 
foreign  travel,  and  very  willing  to  verify  the  j)leas- 
ant  porter's  assurance  that  they  would  like  it,  for 
everybody  liked  it ;  and  it  was  with  a  sudden  sink- 
ing of  the  heart  that  Basil  beheld  presiding  over 
the  register  the  conventional  American  hotel  clerk. 
He  was  young,  he  had  a  neat  mustache  and  well- 
brushed  hair ;  jeweled  studs  sparkled  in  his  shirt- 
front,  and  rings  on  his  white  hands ;  a  gentle 
disdain  of  the  travelling  public  breathed  from  his 
person  in  the  mystical  odors  of  Ihlang  ililang.  He 
did  not  lift  his  haughty  head  to  look  at  the  way- 
farer who  meekly  wrote  his  name  in  the  register ; 
he  did  not  answer  him  when  he  begged  for  a  cool 
room  ;  he  turned  to  the  board  on  which  the  keys 
hung,  and,  plucking  one  from  it,  slid  it  towards 
Basil  on  the  marble  counter,  touched  a  bell  for  a 
call-boy,  whistled  a  bar  of  Offenbach,  and  as  he 
wrote  the  number  of  the  room  against  Basil's  name, 
said  to  a  friend  lounging  near  him,  as  if  resuming  a 
conversation,  "  Well,  she  's  a  mighty  pooty  gul, 
any  way,  Chawley  I " 

When  I  reflect  that  this  was  a  type  of  the  hotel 


!l3     li 


THE  ENCHANTED  CITY,  AND  BEYOND. 


99 


clerk  throughout  the  United   States,  that  behind 
ununmbiTt'd  registers  at  this  moment  he  is  snub- 


16 


ga 
fill, 

otel 


biiig  travellers  into  the  dust,  and  that  they  are  suf- 
fering and  perpetujiting  him,  I  am  lost  in  wonder  at 
the  national  meekness.     Not  that  I  am  one  to  re- 


100 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


' 


I 


fuse  the  humble  pie  his  jeweled  fingers  offer  me. 
Abjectly  I  take  my  key,  and  creep  off  up  stairs 
after  the  call-boy,  and  try  to  give  myself  the  gen- 
teel air  of  one  who  has  not  been  stepped  upon. 
But  I  think  homicidal  things  all  the  same,  and  I 
rejoice  that  in  the  safety  of  print  I  can  cry  out 
against  the  despot,  whom  I  have  not  the  presence 
to  defy.  "  You  vulgar  and  cruel  little  soul,"  1  say, 
and  I  imagine  myself  breathing  the  words  to  his 
teeth,  "  why  do  you  treat  a  weary  stranger  with  this 
ignominy  ?  I  am  to  pay  well  for  what  I  get,  and 
I  shall  not  complain  of  that.  But  look  at  me,  and 
own  my  humanity ;  confess  by  some  civil  action, 
by  some  decent  phrase,  that  I  have  rights  and  that 
they  shall  be  respected.  Answer  my  proper  ques- 
tions ;  respond  to  my  fair  demands.  Do  not  slide 
my  key  at  me  ;  do  not  deny  me  the  poor  politeness 
of  a  nod  as  you  give  it  in  my  hand.  I  am  not  your 
equal ;  few  men  are  ;  but  I  shall  not  presume  upon 
your  clemency.     Come,  I  also  am  human  !  " 

liasil  found  that,  for  his  sin  in  asking  for  a  cool 
room,  the  clerk  had  given  them  a  chamber  into 
which  the  sun  had  been  shining  the  whole  after- 
noon ;  but  when  his  luggage  had  been  put  in  it 
seemed  useless  to  protest,  and  like  a  true  American, 
like  you,  like  me,  he  shrank  from  asserting  himself. 
When  the  sun  went  down  it  would  be  cool  enough  ; 
and  they  turned  their  thoughts  to  supper,  not  ven- 
turing to  hope  that,  as  it  proved,  the  liandsome 
clerk  was  the  sole  blemish  of  the  house. 


^1,  il 


THE   ENCHANTED  CITY,    AND   BEYOND. 


101 


1 


0 


t 


Isabel  viewed  with  innocent  surprise  the  evi- 
dences of  luxury  afforded  by  all  the  appointments 
of  a  hotel  so  far  west  of  Boston,  and  they  both  be- 
gan to  feel  that  natural  ease  and  superiority  which 
an  inn  always  inspires  in  its  guests,  and  which  our 
great  hotels,  far  from  impairing,  enhance  in  flatter- 
ing degree ;  in  fact,  the  clerk  once  forgotten,  1  pro- 
test, for  my  own  part,  I  am  never  more  conscious  of 
my  merits  and  riches  in  any  other  place.  One  has 
theje  the  romance  of  being  a  stranger  and  a  mystery 
to  every  one  else,  and  lives  in  the  alluring  possibil- 
ity of  not  being  found  out  a  most  ordinary  person. 

They  were  so  late  in  coming  to  the  supper-room, 
that  they  found  themselves  alone  in  it.     At  the  door 
they  had  a  bow  from  the  head-waiter,  who  ran  be- 
fore them  and  drew  out  chairs  for  them  at  a  table, 
and  signaled  waiters  to  serve  them,  first  laying  be- 
fore them  with  a  gracious  flourish  the  bill  of  fare. 
A  force  of  servants  flocked  about  them,  as  if  to  con- 
test the  honor  of  ordering  their  supper ;   one  set 
upon  the  table  a  heaping  vase  of  strawberries,  an- 
other flanked  it  with  flagons  of  cream,  a  third  ac- 
companied it  with  cates  of  varied  flavor  and  device ; 
a  fourth  obsequiously  smoothed  the  table-cloth  ;  a 
fifth,  the  youngest  of  the  five,  with  folded  arms 
stood   by   and   admired    the   satisfaction   the   rest 
were  giving.     When  these  had  been  dispatched  for 
steak,  for  broiled  white-fish  of  the  lakes,  —  noblest 
and  delicatest  of  the  fish  that  swim,  —  for  broiled 
chicken,  for  fried  potatoes,  for  muflins,  for  whatever 


'r 


102 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOUBNEY. 


' 

il 

the  lawless  fancy,  and  ravening  appetites  of  the 
wayfarers  could  suggest,  this  fifth  waiter  remained 
to  tempt  them  to  further  excess,  and  vainly  pro- 
posed some  kind  of  eggs,  —  fried  eggs,  poached 
eggH,  scrambled  eggs,  boiled  eggs,  or  omelette. 

''  O,  you're  sure,  dearest,  that  this  isn't  a  vision 
of  fairy-land,  which  will  vanish  presently,  and  leave 
us  empty  and  forlorn  ?  "  plaintively  murmured  Isa- 
bel, as  the  menial  train  reappeared,  bearing  the 
supper  they  had  ordered  and  set  it  smoking  down. 

Suddenly  a  look  of  apprehension  dawned  upon 
her  face,  and  she  let  fall  her  knife  and  fork.  "  You 
dorCt  think,  Basil,"  she  faltered,  *'  that  they  could 
have  found  out  we're  a  bridal  party,  and  that 
they're  serving  us  so  magnificently  because  —  be- 
cause —  O,  I  shall  be  miserable  every  moment 
we're  here  ! "  she  concluded  desperately. 

She  looked,  indeed,  extremely  wretched  for  a 
woman  with  so  much  broiled  white-fish  on  her 
plate,  and  such  a  banquet  array  about  her ;  and 
her  husband  made  haste  to  reassure  her.  "  You're 
still  demoralized,  Isabel,  by  our  sufferings  at  the 
Albany  depot,  and  you  exaggerate  the  blessings  we 
enjoy,  though  I  should  be  sorry  to  undervalue  them. 
I  suspect  it 's  the  custom  to  use  people  well  at  this 
hotel ;  or  if  we  are  singled  out  for  uncommon  favor, 
I  think  I  can  explain  the  cause.  It  has  been  dis- 
covered by  the  register  that  we  are  from  Boston, 
and  we  are  merely  meeting  the  reverence,  affection, 
and  homage  which  the  name  everywhere  commands. 


THE  ENCHANTED  CITY,  AND  BEYOND. 


103 


It 's  our  fortune  to  represent  for  the  time  being  the 
intellectual  and  moral  virtue  of  Boston.  This  sup- 
per is  not  a  tribute  to  you  as  a  bride,  but  as  a  lios- 
tonian." 

It  was  a  cheap  kind  of  raillery,  to  be  sure,  but  it 
served.  It  kindled  the  local  pride  of  Isabel  to  self- 
defense,  and  in  the  distraction  of  the  effort  she  for- 
got her  fears ;  she  returned  with  renewed  appetite 
to  the  supper,  and  in  its  excellence  they  both  let  fall 
their  dispute,  —  which  ended,  of  course,  in  Basil's 
abject  confession  that  Boston  was  the  best  place  in 
the  world,  and  nothing  but  banishment  could  make 
him  live  elsewhere,  —  and  gave  themselves  up,  as 
usual,  to  the  delight  of  being  just  what  and  where 
they  were.  At  last,  the  natural  course  brought 
them  to  the  strawberries,  and  when  the  tifth  waiter 
approached  from  the  corner  of  the  table  at  which  he 
stootl,  to  place  the  vase  near  them,  he  did  not  re- 
tire at  once,  but  presently  asked  if  they  were  from 
the  West. 

Isabel  smiled,  and  Basil  answered  that  they  were 
from  the  East. 

He  faltered  at  this,  as  if  doubtful  of  the  result  if 
he  went  further,  but  took  heart,  then,  and  asked, 
"Don't  you  tlunk  this  is  a  pretty  nice  hotel"  — 
hastily  adding  as  a  concession  of  the  probable  exist- 
ence of  much  finer  things  at  the  East  — "  for  a 
small  hotel  ?  " 

They  imagined  this  waiter  as  new  to  his  station 
iu  life,  as  perhaps  just  risen  to  it  from  some  country 


104 


THEIR  WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


i 


1    1 


!    . 


i 


tavern,  and  unable  to  repress  his  exultation  in  what 
seemed  their  symputlietic  presence.  They  were 
charmed  to  have  invited  his  guileless  confidence,  to 
have  evoked  possibly  all  the  simple  poetry  of  his 
soul ;  it  was  what  might  have  happened  in  Italy, 
only  there  so  much  naivete  would  have  meant 
money ;  they  looked  at  each  other  with  rapture, 
and  Bnsil  answered  warmly  while  the  waiter  flushed 
as  at  a  personal  compliment :  "  Yes,  it 's  a  nice  ho- 
tel ;  one  of  the  best  I  ever  saw,  East  or  West,  in 
Europe  or  America." 

They  rose  and  left  the  room,  and  were  bowed  out 
by  the  head -waiter. 

"  How  perfectly  idyllic  I  "  cried  Isabel.  "  Is 
this  Rochester,  New  York,  or  is  it  some  vale  of 
Arcady  ?     Let 's  go  out  and  see." 

They  walked  out  into  the  moonlit  city,  up  and 
down  streets  that  seemed  very  stately  and  fine, 
amidst  a  glitter  of  shop-window  lights  ;  and  then, 
less  of  their  own  motion  than  of  mere  error,  they 
quitted  the  business  quarter,  and  found  themselves 
in  a  quiet  avenue  of  handsome  residences,  —  the 
Beacon  Street  of  Rochester,  whatever  it  was  called. 
They  said  it  was  a  night  and  a  place  for  lovers,  for 
none  but  lovers,  for  lovers  newly  plighted,  and  they 
made  believe  to  bemoan  themselves  that,  hold  each 
other  dear  as  they  wbuld,  the  exaltation,  the  thrill, 
the  glory  of  their  younger  love  was  gone.  Some  of 
the  houses  had  gardened  spaces  about  them,  from 
which  stole,  like  breaths  of  sweetest  and  saddest  re- 


THE  ENCHANTED   CITY,   AND  BEYOND. 


106 


y 
r 


gi'et,  the  perfume  of  midsummer  flowers,  —  the 
despair  of  the  rose  for  the  bud.  As  they  passed  a 
certain  house,  a  song  H uttered  out  of  the  open  win- 
dow and  ceased,  the  piano  warbh^d  at  the  final  rush 
of  fingers  over  its  chords,  and  they  saw  her  with 
her  fingers  resting  hghtly  on  the  keys,  and  her 
graceful  head  lifted  to  look  into  his ;  they  saw  liim 
with  his  ^rm  yet  stretched  across  to  the  leaves  of 
music  he  had  been  turning,  and  his  face  lowered  to 
meet  her  gaze. 

*'  Ah,  Basil,  I  wish  it  was  we,  there  I " 

"  And  if  they  knew  that  we,  on  our  wedding 
journey,  stood  outside,  would  not  they  wish  it  was 
they,  here  ?  " 

"I  suppose  so,  dearest,  and  yet,  once-upon-a- 
time  was  sweet.  Pass  on  ;  and  let  us  see  what 
charm  we  shall  find  next  in  this  enchanted  city." 

"  Yes,  it  is  an  enchanted  city  to  us,"  mused  Basil, 
aloud,  as  they  wandered  on,  "  and  all  strange  cities 
are  enchanted.  What  is  Rochester  to  the  Roches- 
terese  ?  A  place  of  a  hundred  thousand  people,  as 
we  read  in  our  guide,  an  immense  flour  interest,  a 
great  railroad  eyitrepdt^  an  unrivaled  nursery  trade, 
a  university,  two  commercial  colleges,  three  collegi- 
ate institutes,  eight  or  ten  newspapers,  and  a  free 
library.  I  dare  say  any  respectable  resident  would 
laugh  at  us  sentimentalizing  over  his  city.  But 
Rochester  is  for  us,  who  don't  know  it  at  all,  a  city 
of  any  time  or  country,  moonlit,  filled  with  lovers 
hovering  over  piano-fortes,  of  a  palatial  hotel  with 


11   •• 


!       ' 


106 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


pastoral  waiters  and  porters,  —  a  city  of  handsome 
streets  wrapt  in  beautiful  quiet  and  dreaming  of 
the  golden  age.  The  only  definite  association  with 
it  in  our  minds  is  the  tragically  romantic  thought 
that  here  Sam  Patch  met  his  fate." 

"  And  who  in  the  world  was  Sam  Patch  ?  " 

"  Isabel,  your  ignorance  of  all  that  an  American 
woman  should  be  proud  of  distresses  me.  Have 
you  really,  then,  never  heard  of  the  man  who  in- 
vented the  saying,  *  Some  things  can  be  done  as 
well  as  others,'  and  proved  it  by  jumping  over 
Niagara  Falls  twice?  Spurred  on  by  this  belief, 
he  attempted  the  leap  of  the  Genesee  Falls.  The 
leap  was  easy  enough,  but  the  coming  up  again 
was  another  matter.  He  failed  in  that.  It  was 
the  one  thing  that  could  not  be  done  as  well  as 
others." 

"  Dreadful  I "  said  Isabel,  with  the  cheerfuUest 
satisfaction.  ^^  But  what  has  all  that  to  do  with 
Rochester  ?  " 

"  Now,  my  dear !  You  don't  mean  to  say  you 
didn't  know  that  the  Genesee  Falls  were  at  Roch- 
ester ?  Upon  my  word,  I'm  ashamed.  Why,  we're 
within  ten  minutes'  walk  of  them  now." 

"  Then  walk  to  them  at  once  I "  cried  Isabel, 
wholly  unabashed,  and  in  fact  unable  to  see  what 
he  had  to  be  ashamed  of.  *'  Actually,  I  believe 
you  would  have  allowed  me  to  leave  Rochester 
without  telling  me  the  falls  were  here,  if  you  hadn't 
happened  to  think  of  Sam  Patch." 


THE  ENCHANTED   CITY,   AND  BEYOND. 


107 


Saying  this,  she  persuaded  herself  that  a  chief 
object  of  their  journey  had  been  to  visit  the  scene 
of  Sam  Patch's  fatal  exploit,  and  she  drew  IJasil 
with  a  nervous  swiftness  in  the  direction  of  the 
railroad  station,  beyond  which  he  said  were  the 
falls.  Presently,  after  threading  their  way  among 
a  multitude  of  locomotives,  with  and  without  trains 
attached,  that  backed  and  advanced,  or  stood  still, 
hissing  impatiently  on  every  side,  they  passed 
through  the  station  to  a  broad  planking  above  the 
river  on  the  other  side,  and  thence,  after  encounter 
of  more  locomotives,  they  found,  by  dint  of  much 
asking,  a  street  winding  up  the  hill-side  to  the  left, 
and  leading  to  the  German  Bierhaus  that  gives 
access  to  the  best  view  of  the  cataract. 

The  Americans  have  characteristically  bordered 
the  river  with  manufactures,  making  every  drop 
work  its  passage  to  the  brink  ;  while  the  Germans 
have  as  characteristically  made  use  of  the  beauty 
left  over,  and  have  built  a  Bierhaus  where  they 
may  regale  both  soul  and  sense  in  the  presence  of 
the  cataract.  Our  travellers  might,  in  another 
mood  and  place,  have  thought  it  droll  to  arrive  at 
that  sublime  spectacle  through  a  Bierhaus,  but  in 
this  enchanted  city  it  seemed  to  have  a  peculiar 
fitness. 

A  narrow  corridor  gave  into  a  wide  festival  space 
occupied  by  many  tables,  each  of  which  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  group  of  clamorous  Germans  of  either 
sex  and  every  age,  with  tall  beakers  of  beaded  lager 


108 


THEIR   WFDDING  JOURNEY. 


^«- 


t 

;  1 

i! 

■ 

n 


Hi 


before  them,  and  slim  flasks  of  Rhenish  ;  overhead 
flamed  the  gas  in  globes  of  varicolored  glass  ;  the 


{    l\ 


THE  ENCHANTtD  CITV,  AND  BEYOND. 


109 


walls  were  painted  like  those  of  such  haunts  in  the 
fatherland ;  and  the  wedding-journeyers  were  fain 
to  linger  on  their  way,  to  dwell  upon  that  scene 
of  honest  enjoyment,  to  inhale  the  mingling  odors 
of  beer  and  of  pipes,  and  of  the  pungent  cheeses 
in  whi^h  the  children  of  the  fatherland  delight. 
Amii'.st  the  inspiriting  clash  of  plates  and  glasses, 
the  rattle  of  knives  and  forks,  and  the  hoarse  rush 
of  gutturals,  they  could  catch  the  words  Franzosen, 
Kaiser,  Konig,  and  Schlacht,  and  they  knew  that 
festive  company  to  be  exulting  in  the  first  German 
triumphs  of  the  war,  which  were  then  the  day's 
news  ;  they  saw  fists  shaken  at  noses  in  fierce  ex- 
change of  joy,  arms  tossed  abrond  in  wild  congrat- 
ulation, and  health-pouring  goblets  of  beer  lifted  in 
air.  Then  they  stepped  into  the  moonlight  again, 
and  heard  only  the  solemn  organ  stops  of  the  cata- 
ract. Through  garden-ground  they  were  led  by 
the  little  maid,  their  guide,  to  a  small  pavilion  that 
stood  on  the  edge  of  the  precipitous  shore,  and 
commanded  a  perfect  view  of  the  falls.  As  they 
entered  this  pavilion,  a  youth  and  maiden,  clearly 
lovers,  passed  out,  and  they  were  left  alone  with 
that  sublime  presence.  Something  of  definiteness 
was  to  be  desired  in  the  spectacle,  but  there  was 
ample  compensation  in  the  mystery  with  which  the 
broad  effulgence  and  the  dense  unluminous  shadows 
of  the  moonshine  invested  it.  The  light  touched 
all  the  tops  of  the  rapids,  that  seemed  to  writhe 
away  from  the  brink  of  the  cataract,  and  then  des- 


no 


THEIR  WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


perately  breaking  and  perishing  to  full,  the  white 
disembodied  ghosts  of  rapids,  down  to  the  bottom 
of  the  vast  and  deep  ravine  tlirough  which  the  river 
rushed  away.  Now  the  waters  seemed  to  niiis;* 
themselves  a  hundred  feet  high  in  a  wall  of  snowy 
compactness,  now  to  disperse  into  their  multitudi- 
nous particles  and  hang  like  some  vaporous  cloud 
from  the  cliff.  Every  moment  renewed  the  vision 
of  beauty  in  some  rare  and  fantastic  shape  ;  and 
its  loveliness  isolated  it,  in  spite  of  the  gi'eat  to^vn 
on  the  other  shore,  the  station  with  its  bridge  and 
its  trains,  the  mills  that  supplied  their  feeble  little 
needs  from  the  cataract's  strength. 

At  last  Basil  pointed  out  the  table-rock  in  the 
mid  He  of  the  fall,  from  which  Sam  Patch  had  made 
his  fatal  leap ;  but  Isabel  refused  to  admit  that 
tragical  figure  to  the  honors  of  her  emotions.  "  I 
don't  care  for  him !  "  she  said  fiercely.  "  Patch  ! 
What  a  name  to  be  linked  in  our  thoughts  with 
this  superb  cataract." 

"  Well,  Isabel,  I  think  you  are  very  unjust.  It's 
as  good  a  name  as  Leander,  to  my  thinking,  and 
it  was  immortalized  in  support  of  a  great  idea,  — 
the  feasibility  of  all  things;  Avhile  Leander's  has 
come  down  to  us  as  that  of  the  weak  victim  of  a 
passion.  We  shall  never  have  a  poetry  of  our  own 
till  we  get  over  this  absurd  reluctance  from  facts, 
till  we  make  the  ideal  embrace  and  include  the  real, 
till  we  consent  to  face  the  music  in  our  simple  com- 
mon names,  and  put  Smith  into  a  lyric  and  Jones 


THE  ENCHANTED  CITY,   AND   BEYOND. 


Ill 


s 


into  a  tragedy.  The  Germans  are  braver  than  we, 
and  in  them  you  find  facts  and  dreams  continually 
blended  and  confronted.  Here  is  a  fortunate  illus- 
tration. The  people  we  mot  coming  out  of  this 
pavilion  were  lovers,  and  they  had  been  here  senti- 
mentalizing on  this  superb  cataract,  as  you  call  it, 
with  which  my  heroic  Patch  is  not  worthy  to  be 
named.  No  doubt  they  had  been  quoting  Uhland 
or  some  other  of  their  romantic  poets,  perhaps  sing- 
ing some  of  their  tender  Gernum  love-songs,  —  the 
tenderest,  unearthliest  love-songs  in  the  world.  At 
the  same  time  they  did  not  disdain  the  matter-of- 
fact  corporeity  in  which  their  sentiment  was  en- 
shrined ;  they  fed  it  heartily  and  abundantly  with 
the  banquet  wlit/DO  relics  we  see  here." 

On  a  table  before  them  stood  a  pair  of  beer- 
glasses,  in  the  bottoms  of  which  lurked  scarce  the 
foam  of  the  generous  liquor  lately  brimming  them  ; 
some  shreds  of  sausage,  some  rinds  of  Swiss  cheese, 
bits  of  cold  ham,  crusts  of  bread,  and  the  ashes  of 
a  pipe. 

Isabel  shuddered  at  the  spectacle,  but  made  no 
comment,  and  Basil  went  on :  "  Do  you  suppose 
they  scorned  the  idea  of  Sam  Patch  as  they  gazed 
upon  the  falls?  On  the  contrary,  I've  no  doubt 
that  he  r*  ■♦•ailed  to  her  the  ballad  Avhicli  a  poet  of 
their  language  made  about  him.  It  used  to  go  the 
rounds  of  the  German  newspapers,  and  I  translated 
it,  a  long  while  ago,  when  I  thought  that  I  too  was 
in  Arkadien  geboren. 


112  THKIR   WEDDING  JOUKNKV. 

" '  In  the  Biorhnu8);nrten  I  linger 
IJy  the  Falls  of  the  Genesee  : 
From  the  Tuhle-Rock  in  the  middle 
Leupa  a  figure  bold  and  free. 


'Wm);>^^^ 


*'  *  Aloof  in  the  ni'r  it  rises 

O'er  the  nish,  the  plunp:e,  the  death ; 
On  the  thronginff  hanks  of  the  river 
There  is  neither  pulse  nor  breath. 


■f! 


THE  EMCHANTED  CITY,  AND  BEYOND.     118 

•"  Forever  It  hovers  and  poises 
Aloof  in  the  moonlit  iiir; 
Ah  li^:lit  ns  mist  (rom  the  rapids, 
As  heavy  us  niglitniare. 

"'In  an^yuish  I  cry  to  the  people, 
The  ion};-siiice  vanished  hosts ; 
I  see  them  stretch  forth  In  answer, 
The  helpless  hands  of  ghosts.'  . 

I  once  met  the  poet  who  >VTote  this.  lie  drank  too 
mucli  beer." 

"I  don't  see  that  he  got  in  the  name  of  Sam 
Patch,  after  all,"  said  Isabel. 

"  O  yes,  he  did  ;  but  I  had  to  yield  to  our  taste, 
and  where  he  said,  '  Springt  der  Sam  Patsch  kiihn 
und  frei,'  I  made  it  *  Leaps  a  figure  bold  and 
free.'  " 

As  they  passed  through  the  house  on  their  way 
out,  they  saw  the  youth  and  maiden  they  had  met 
at  the  pavilion  door.  They  were  seated  at  a  table  ; 
two  glasses  of  beer  towered  before  them  ;  on  their 
plates  were  odorous  crumbs  of  Limburger  cheese. 
They  both  wore  a  pensive  air. 

The  next  morning  the  illusion  that  had  wi'apt  the 
whole  earth  was  gone  with  the  moonlight.  By  nine 
o'clock,  when  the  wedding-journeyers  resumed  their 
way  toward  Niagara,  the  heat  had  already  set  in 
with  the  effect  of  ordinary  midsummer's  heat  at 
high  noon.  The  car  into  which  they  got  had  covie 
the  past  night  from  Albany,  and  had  an  air  of  air 


114 


THEIR  WKDDING  JOURNEY. 


most  conscious  shabbiness,  griminess,  and  over-use. 
Tlie  seats  were  covered  with  cinders,  which  also 
crackled  under  foot.  Dust  was  on  everything, 
especially  the  persons  of  the  crumpled  and  weary 
passengers  of  overnight.  Those  who  came  aboard 
at  Rochester  failed  to  lighten  the  spiritual  gloom, 
and  |)re8ently  they  sank  into  the  common  bodily 
wretchedness.  The  train  was  somewhat  belated, 
and  as  it  drew  nearer  Buffalo  they  knew  the  con- 
ductor to  have  abandoned  himself  to  that  blackest 
of  the  arts,  making  time.  The  long  irregular  jolt 
of  the  ordinary  progress  was  reduced  to  an  incessant 
shudder  and  a  quick  lateral  motion.  The  air  within 
tiie  cars  was  deadly ;  if  a  window  was  raised,  a 
storm  of  dust  and  cinders  blew  in  and  quick  gusts 
caught  away  the  breath.  So  they  sat  with  closed 
^^^ndows,  sweltering  and  stifling,  and  all  the  faces 
on  which  a  lively  horror  was  not  painted  were  dull 
and  damp  with  apathetic  misery. 

The  incidents  were  in  harmony  with  the  abject 
physical  tone  of  the  company.  There  was  a  quarrel 
between  a  thin,  shrill-voiced,  highly  dressed,  much- 
bedizened  Jewess,  on  the  one  side,  and  a  fat,  greedy 
old  woman,  half  asleep,  and  a  boy  with  large  pink 
transparent  ears  that  stood  out  from  his  head  like 
the  handles  of  a  jar,  on  the  other  side,  about  a  seat 
which  the  Hebrew  wanted,  and  which  the  others 
had  kept  filled  with  packages  on  the  pretense  that 
it  was  engaged. "  It  was  a  loud  and  fierce  quarrel 
enough,  but  it  won  no  sort  of  favor ;  and  when  the 


THK  ENCHANTED  CITY,   AND  BEYOND. 


116 


ise. 
a\so 

eary 
loard 

,odUy 
>\ated, 
e  con- 
tackest 

\ar  30^^ 
icessant 

raised,  a 

Lck  g^^s^* 
th  closed 

t\ie  iaces 
^vere  duU 

t\ie  abject 
s  a  quarrel 
,sed,  TtiucV 

iat,  gvee^y 
large  pink 
head  lite 
about  a  seat 
^  the  others 
,retense  that 
,.erce  quarrel 
land  ^vbeIl  the 


IS 


Jewess  had  given  a  final  opinion  that  the  gi'eedy 
old  woman  was  no  lady,  and  the  boy,  who  disputed 
in  an  ironical  temper,  replied,  "  Highly  complimen- 
tary, I  mu8t  say,"  there  was  no  sign  of  relief  or 
other  acknowledgment  in  any  of  the  spectators,  that 
there  had  been  a  quarrel. 

There  was  a  little  more  interest  taken  in  the  mis- 
fortune of  an  old  purblind  German  and  his  son, 
who  were  found  by  the  conductor  to  be  a  few  hun- 
dred miles  out  of  the  direct  course  to  their  destina- 
tion, and  were  with  some  trouble  and  the  aid  of  an 
Americanized  fellow-countryman  made  aware  of  the 
fact.  The  old  man  then  fell  back  in  the  prevailing 
apathy,  and  the  child  naturally  cared  nothing.  By 
and  by  came  the  unsparing  train-boy  on  his  rounds, 
bestrewing  the  passengers  successively  with  papers, 
magazines,  fine-cut  tobacco,  and  packages  of  candy. 
He  gave  the  old  man  a  package  of  candy,  and  passed 
on.  The  German  took  it  as  the  bounty  of  the  Amer- 
ican people,  oddly  manifested  in  a  situation  where 
he  could  otherwise  have  had  little  proof  of  their 
care.  He  opened  it  and  was  sharing  it  \vith  his  son 
when  the  train-boy  caine  back,  and  metallically,  like 
a  part  of  the  machinery,  demanded,  "  Ten  cents !  " 
The  German  stared  helplessly,  and  the  boy  repeated, 
*'  Ten  cents  !  ten  cents  !  "  with  tiresome  patience, 
while  the  other  passengers  smiled.  When  it  had 
passed  through  the  alien's  head  that  he  was  to  pay 
for  this  national  gift  and  he  took  with  his  tremulous 
fingers  from  the  recesses  of  his  pocket-book  a  ten- 


116 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


cent  note  and  handed  it  to  his  tormentor,  some  of 
the  people  laughed.  Among  the  rest,  Basil  and 
Isabel  laughed,  and  then  looked  at  each  other  with 
eyes  of  mutual  reproach. 

"  Well,  upon  my  word,  my  dear,"  he  said,  "  I 
think  we've  fallen  pretty  low.  Tve  never  felt  such 
a  poor,  shabby  ruffian  before.  Good  heavens !  To 
think  of  our  immortal  souls  being  moved  to  mirth 
by  such  a  thing  as  this,  —  so  stupid,  so  barren  of  all 
reason  of  laughter.  And  then  the  cruelty  of  it ! 
What  ferocious  imbeciles  we  are !  Whom  have 
I  married  ?  A  woman  with  neither  heart  nor 
brain  ! " 
,  "  O  Basil,  dear,  pay  him  back  the  money  —  do." 

"  I  can't.  That 's  the  worst  of  it.  He  's  money 
enough,  and  might  justly  take  offense.  What 
breaks  my  heart  is  that  we  could  have  the  depravity 
to  smile  at  the  mistake  of  a  friendless  stranger,  who 
supposed  he  had  at  last  met  with  an  act  of  pure 
kindness.  It's  a  thing  to  weep  over.  Look  at 
these  grinning  wretches  !  What  a  fiendish  effect 
their  smiles  have,  through  their  cinders  and  sweat  I 
0,  it 's  the  terrible  weather  ;  the  despotism  of  the 
dust  and  hejit ;  the  wickedness  of  the  infernal  air. 
What  a  squalid  and  loathsome  company  I  " 

At  Buffalo,  where  they  arrived  late,  they  found 
themselves  with  several  hours'  time  on  their  hands 
before  the  train  started  for  Niagara,  and  in  the  first 
moments  of  tedium,  Isabel  forgot  herself  into  say- 


THE   ENCHANTED    CITY,    AND   BEYOND. 


117 


n 


the 


pay- 


ing, "  Don't  you  think  we'd  have  done  better  to  go 
directly  from  Rochester  to  the  Falls,  instead  of  com- 
ing  this  way  ?  " 

"  Why  certainly.  I  didn't  propose  cominrr  thii 
way." 

"  I  know  it,  dear.  I  was  only  askingj,"  said  Isa- 
bel, meekly.  "  But  I  should  think  you'd  have  gen- 
erosity enough  to  take  a  little  of  the  blame,  when  I' 
wanted  to  come  out  of  a  romaritic  feeling  for  you." 

This  romantic  feeling  referred  to  the  fact  that, 
many  years  before,  when  Basil  made  his  first  visit 
to  Niagara,  he  had  approached  from  the  west  by 
way  of  Buffalo;  and  Isabel,  who  tenderly  begrudged 
his  h.aving  existed  before  she  knew  him,  and  longed 
to  ally  herself  retrospectively  with  his  past,  was  re- 
solved to  draw  near  the  great  cataract  by  no  other 
route. 

She  fetched  a  little  sigh  which  might  mean  the 
weather  or  his  hard-heartedness.  The  sigh  touched 
him,  and  he  suggested  a  carriage-ride  through  the 
city  ;  she  assented  with  eagerness,  for  it  was  what 
she  had  been  thinking  of.  She  had  never  seen  a 
lakeside  city  before,  and  she  was  taken  by  surprise. 
*"  If  ever  we  leave  Boston,"  she  said,  "  we  will  not 
live  at  Rochester,  as  I  thought  last  night ;  we'll 
come  to  Buffalo."  She  found  that  the  place  had 
all  the  picturesqueness  of  a  sea-port,  without  the  ug- 
liness that  attends  the  rising  and  falling  tides.  A 
delicious  freshness  breathed  from  the  lake,  which 
lying  so  smooth,  faded  into  the  sky  at  last,  with  in 


i:8 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY 


line  between  sharper  than  that  which  divides  drows- 
ing from  dreaming.  But  the  color  was  the  most 
charming  thing,  that  delicate  blue  of  the  lake, 
without  the  depth  of  the  sea-blue,  but  infinitely 
softer  and  lovelier.  The  nearer  expanses  rippled 
with  dainty  waves,  silver  and  lucent;  the  further 
levels  made,  with  the  sun-dimmed  summer  sky,  a 
vague  horizon  of  turquoise  and  amethyst,  lit  by  the 
white  sails  of  ships,  and  stained  by  the  smoke  of 
steamers. 

"Take  me  awa.y  now,"  said  Isabel,  when  her 
eyes  had  feasted  upon  all  this,  "  and  don't  let  me 
see  another  thing  till  I  get  to  Niagara.  Nothing 
less  sublime  is  worthy  the  eyes  that  have  beheld 
such  beauty." 

However,  on  the  way  to  Niagara  she  consented 
to  glimpses  of  the  river  which  carries  the  waters  of 
.  the  lake  for  their  mighty  plunge,  and  which  shows 
itself  very  nobly  from  time  to  time  as  you  draw 
toward  the  cataract,  with  wooded  or  cultivated  isl- 
ands, and  rich  farms  along  its  low  shores,  and  at 
last  flashes  upon  the  eye  the  shining  white  of  the 
rapids,  —  a  hint,  no  more,  of  the  splendor  and  aw- 
fulness  to  be  revealed.  t 


VL 


NIAGARA. 


As  the  train  stopped, 
Isabel's  heart  beat 
with  a  child-like  ex- 
ultation, as  I  believe 
every  one's  heart 
must  who  is  worthy 
to  arrive  at  Niagara. 
She  had  been  trying 
to  fancy,  from  time  to 
time,  that  she  heard 
the  roar  of  the  cata- 
ract, and  now,  when 
she  alighted  from  the 
car,  she  was  sure  she 
should  have  heard  it 
but  for  tlie  vulgar  little  noises  that  attend  the  ar- 
rival of  trains  at  Niagara  as  well  as  everywhere 
else.  "  Never  mind,  dearest ;  you  shall  be  stunned 
with  it  before  you  leave,"  promised  her  husband ; 
and,  not  wholly  disconsolate,  she  rode  through  the 
quaint  streets  of  the  village,  where  it  remains  a 
question  whether  the  lowliness  of  the  shops  and  pri- 
vate houses  makes  the  hotels  look  so  vast,  or  the 


r" 


120 


THEIR  WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


bigness  of  the  hotels  dwarfs  all  the  other  buildings. 
The  immense  caravansaries  swelling  up  from  among 
the  little  bazaars  (where  they  sell  feather  fans,  and 
miniature  bark  canoes,  and  jars  and  vases  and 
bracelets  and  brooches  carved  out  of  the  local 
rocks),  made  our  friends  with  their  trunks  very 
conscious  of  their  disproportion  to  the  accommoda- 
tions of  the  smallest.  They  were  tlie  sole  occu- 
pants of  the  omnibus,  and  tliey  were  embarrassed 
to  be  received  at  their  hotel  with  a  burst  of  min- 
strelsy from  a  whole  band  of  music.  Isabel  felt 
that  a  single  stringed  instrument  of  some  timid 
note  would  have  been  enough ;  and  Basil  was  go- 
ing to  express  his  own  modest  preference  for  a 
jew's-harp,  when  the  music  ceased  with  a  sudden 
clash  of  the  cymbals.  But  the  next  moment  it 
burst  out  Avith  fresh  sweetness,  and  in  alighting 
they  perceived  that  another  omnibus  had  turned 
the  corner  and  was  drawing  up  to  the  pilhired  por- 
tico of  the  hotel.  A  small  family  dismounted,  and 
the  feet  of  the  last  had  hardly  touched  the  pave- 
ment when  the  music  again  ended  as  abruptly  as 
those  flourishes  of  trumpets  that  usher  player-kings 
upon  the  stage.  Isabel  could  not  help  laughing  at 
this  melodious  parsimony.  *'  I  hope  they  don't  let 
on  the  cataract  and  shut  it  off  in  this  frugal  style  ; 
do  they,  Basil  ? "  she  asked,  and  passed  jesting 
^!  :  'igh  a  pomp  of  unoccupied  porters  and  caXl- 
i>o/^  Apparently  there  were  not  many  people 
etopp*'  '^  at  this  hotel,   or   else  they  were  all  out 


! 


NIAGARA. 


121 


looking  at  the  Falls  or  confined  to  their  rooms. 
However,  our  travellers  took  in  the  almost  weird 
emptiness  of  the  place  with  their  usual  gratitude  to 
fortune  for  all  queerness  in  life,  and  followed  to  the 
pleasant  quarters  assigned  them.  There  was  time 
before  supper  for  a  glance  at  the  cataract,  and  after 
a  brief  toilet  they  sallied  out  again  upon  the  hol- 
iday street,  with  its  parade  of  gay  little  shops,  and 
thence  passed  into  the  grove  beside  the  Falls,  enjoy- 
ing at  every  instant  their  feeling  of  arrival  at  a  sub- 
lime destination. 

In  this  sense  Niagara  deserves  almost  to  rank 
with  Home,  the  metropolis  of  history  and  religion  ; 
^vith  Venice,  the  chief  city  of  sentiment  and  fan- 
tasy. In  either  you  are  at  once  made  at  home  by 
a  perception  of  its  greatness,  in  which  there  is  no 
quality  of  aggression,  as  there  always  seems  to  be 
in  minor  places  as  Avell  as  in  minor  men,  and  yoa 
gratefully  accept  its  sublimity  as  a  fact  in  no  way 
contrasting  \vith  your  own  insignificance. 

Our  friends  were  beset  of  course  by  many  car- 
riage-drivers, whom  they  repelled  with  the  kindly 
firmness  of  experienced  travel.  Isabel  even  felt  a 
compassion  for  these  poor  fellows  who  had  seen  Ni- 
agara so  much  as  to  have  forgotten  that  the  first 
time  one  must  see  it  alone  or  only  with  the  next  of 
friendship.  She  was  voluble  in  her  pity  of  Basil 
that  it  was  not  as  new  to  him  as  to  her,  till  be- 
tween the  trees  they  saw  a  white  cloud  of  spray, 
allot  through  and  through  with  sunset,  rising,  risings 


1t\ 


122 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


and  she  felt  her  voice  softly  and  steadily  beaten 
down  by  the  diapason  of  the  cataract. 

1  am  not  sure  but  the  first  emotion  on  viewing 
Niagara  is  that  of  familiarity.  Ever  after,  its 
strangeness  increases  ;  but  in  that  earliest  moment, 
when  you  stand  by  the  side  of  the  American  fall, 
and  take  in  so  much  of  tlie  whole  as  your  glance 
can  compass,  an  impression  of  having  seen  it  often 
before  is  certainly  very  vivid.  This  may  be  an 
effect  of  that  grandeur  which  puts  you  at  your 
ease  in  its  presence ;  but  it  also  undoubtedly  re- 
sults in  part  from  lifelong  acquaintance  with  every 
variety  of  futile  picture  of  the  scene.  You  have  its 
outward  form  clearly  in  your  memory ;  the  shores, 
the  rapids,  the  islands,  the  curve  of  the  Falls,  and 
the  stout  rainbow  with  one  end  resting  on  their  top 
and  the  other  lost  in  the  mists  that  rise  from  the 
gulf  beneath.  On  the  whole  I  do  not  account  this 
sort  of  familiarity  a  misfortune.  The  surprise  is 
none  the  less  a  surprise  because  it  is  kept  till  the 
last,  and  the  marvel,  making  itself  finally  felt  in 
every  nerve,  and  not  at  once  through  a  single 
sense,  all  the  more  fully  possesses  you.  It  is  as  if 
Niagara  reserved  her  magnificence,  and  preferred 
to  win  your  heart  with  her  beauty  ;  and  so  Isabel, 
who  was  instinctively  prepared  for  the  reverse, 
suffered  a  vague  disappointment,  for  a  little  in- 
stant, as  she  looked  along  the  verge  from  the  water 
that  caressed  the  shore  at  her  feet  before  it  flung 
itself  down,  to  the  wooded  point  that  divides  the 


NIAGARA. 


123 


Ameriran  from  the  Canadian  Fall,  beyond  which 
showed  dimly  through  its  veil  of  golden  and  silver 
mists  the  emerald  wall  of  the  great  Horse-Shoe. 
"  How  still  it  is  I  "  she  said,  amidst  the  roar  that 
shook  the  ground  under  their  feet  and  made  the 
leaves  tremble  overhead,  and  "  How  lonesome  ! " 
amidst  tb'^  people  lounging  and  sauntering  about  in 
every  direction  among  the  trees.  Tn  fact  that  pro- 
digious presence  does  make  a  solitude  and  silence 
round  every  spirit  worthy  to  perceive  it,  and  it 
gives  a  kind  of  dignity  to  all  its  belongings,  so  tliat 
the  rocks  and  pebbles  in  the  water's  edge,  and  the 
weeds  and  grasses  that  nod  above  it,  have  a  value 
far  beyond  that  of  such  common  things  elsewhere. 
In  all  the  aspects  of  Niagara  there  seems  a  grave 
simplicity,  which  is  perhaps  a  reflection  of  the 
spectator's  soul  for  once  utterly  dismantled  of  affec- 
tation and  convention.  In  the  vulgar  reaction  from 
this,  you  are  of  course  as  trivial,  if  you  like,  at 
Niagara,  as  anywhere. 

Slowly  Isabel  became  aware  that  the  sacred 
grove  beside  the  fall  was  profaned  by  some  very 
common  presences  indeed,  that  tossed  bits  of  stone 
and  sticks  into  the  consecrated  waters,  and  strug- 
gled for  handkerchiefs  and  fans,  and  here  and  there 
put  their  arms  about  each  other's  waists,  and  made 
a  show  of  laughing  and  joking.  They  were  a  pic- 
nic party  of  rude,  silly  folks  of  the  neighborhood, 
ind  she  stood  pondering  them  in  sad  wonder  if 
anything  could  be  worse,  when  she  heard  a  voice 


124 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


saying  to  Basil,  "  Take  you  next,  Sir  ?  Plenty  of 
light  yet,  and  the  wind  's  down  the  river,  so  the 
spray  won't  interfere.  Make  a  capital  picture  of 
you  ;  falls  in  the  background."  It  was  the  local 
photograi)her  urging  them  to  succeed  the  young 
couple  he  had  just  posed  at  the  brink :  the  gentle- 
man was  sitting  down,  with  his  legs  crossed  and  his 
hands  elegantly  disposed;  the  lady  was  standing 
at  his  side,  with  one  arm  thrown  lightly  across  his 
shoulder,  while  with  the  other  hand  she  thrust  his 
cane  i>nto  the  ground ;  you  could  see  it  was  going  to 
be  a  splendid  photograph. 

Basil  thanked  the  artist,  and  Isabel  said,  trust- 
ing as  usual  to  his  sympathy  for  perception  of  her 
train  of  thought,  '*  Well,  I'll  never  try  to  be  high- 
strung  again.  But  shouldn't  you  have  thought, 
dearest,  that  I  might  expect  to  be  high-strung  with 
success  at  Niagara  if  anywhere  ?  "  She  passively 
followed  him  into  the  long,  queer,  downward-slop- 
ing edifice  on  the  border  of  the  grove,  unflinchingly 
mounted  the  car  that  stood  ready,  and  descended 
the  incline.  Emerging  into  the  light  again,  she 
found  herself  at  the  foot  of  the  fall  by  whose  top 
she  had  just  stood. 

At  first  she  was  glad  there  were  other  people 
down  there,  as  if  she  and  Basil  were  not  enough  to 
bear  it  alone,  and  she  could  almost  have  spoken  to 
the  two  hopelessly  pretty  brides,  with  parasols  and 
impertinent  little  boots,  whom  their  attendant  hus- 
bands were  helping   over  the  sharp  and  slippery 


NIAGARA. 


125 


rocks,   so  bare  beyond  the   spray,   so  green  and 
mossy  within  +he  fall   of  mist.     But  in  another 


1  2.) 


THEIR   WKDDIN'G   JOURNEY. 


II 


> 


II 


lu'cath  she  forgot  them,  as  she  looked  on  that  diz- 
zied sea,  hurling  itself  from  the  high  summit  in 
huge  white  knots,  and  breaks  and  masses,  and 
plunging  into  the  gulf  beside  her,  while  it  sent 
continually  up  a  strong  voice  of  lamentation,  and 
crawled  away  in  vast  eddies,  with  somehow  a  look 
of  hunian  terror,  bewilderment,  and  pain.  It  was 
l)atli«*d  in  snowy  vapor  to  its  crest,  but  now  and 
tlien  heavy  currents  of  air  drew  this  aside,  and  they 
saw  tlie  outline  of  the  Falls  almost  as  far  .as  the 
Caujula  side.  They  remembered  afterwards  how 
they  were  able  to  make  use  of  but  one  sense  at  a 
time,  and  how  when  they  strove  to  take  in  the 
forms  of  the  descending  flood,  they  ceased  to  hear 
it ;  but  as  soon  as  they  releaiied  their  eyes  from 
this  service,  every  fibre  in  th^jm  vibrated  to  the 
sound,  Jind  the  spectacle  dissolved  away  in  it. 
They  were  aware,  too,  of  a  strange  capriciousness 
in  their  senses,  and  of  a  tendency  of  each  to  pal- 
ter with  the  things  perceived.  The  eye  could  no 
longer  take  truthful  note  of  quality,  and  now  be- 
held the  tumbling  deluge  as  a  Gothic  wall  of  carven 
marble,  white,  motionless,  and  now  as  a  fall  of 
lightest  snow,  with  movement  in  all  its  atoms,  and 
scarce  so  much  cohesion  as  would  hold  them  to- 
gether ;  and  again  they  could  not  discern  if  this 
course  were  from  above  or  from  beneath,  whether 
the  water  rose  from  the  abyss  or  dropped  from  the 
height.  The  ear  could  give  the  brain  no  assurance 
of  the  sound  that  filled  it,  and  whether  it  were 


NIAGARA. 


127 


groat  or  little  ;  the  prevailing  softnesa  of  the  cata- 
ract's tone  seemed  so  much  opposed  to  ideas  of  pro- 
digious force  or  of  prodigious  volume.  It  was  only 
when  the  sight,  so  idle  in  its  own  behalf,  came  to 
the  aid  of  the  other  sense,  and  showed  them  the 
mute  movement  of  each  other's  lips,  that  they 
dimly  appreciated  the  depth  of  sound  that  involved 
them. 

*'  I  think  you  might  have  been  high-strung  there, 
for  a  second  or  two,"  said  Basil,  when,  ascending 
the  incline,  he  could  make  himself  heard.  **  We 
will  try  the  bridge  next." 

Over  the  river,  so  still  Avith  its  oily  eddies  and 
delicate  wreaths  of  foam,  just  below  the  Falls  they 
have  in  late  years  woven  a  web  of  wire  high  in  air, 
and  hung  a  bridge  from  precipice  to  precipice.  Of 
all  the  bridges  made  with  hands  it  seems  the  light- 
est, most  ethereal ;  it  is  ideally  graceful,  and  droops 
from  its  slight  towers  like  a  garland.  It  is  worthy 
to  command,  as  it  does,  the  whole  grandeur  of  Ni- 
agara,, and  to  show  the  traveller  the  vast  spec- 
tacle, from  the  beginning  of  the  American  Fall  to 
the  farthest  limit  of  the  Horse-Shoe,  with  all  the 
awful  pomp  of  the  rapids,  the  solemn  darkness  of 
the  wooded  islands,  the  mystery  of  the  vaporous 
gulf,  the  indomitable  wildness  of  the  shores,  as  far 
as  the  eye  can  reach  up  or  down  the  fatal  stream. 

To  this  bridge  our  friends  now  repaired,  by  a 
path  that  led  through  another  of  those  groves 
which  keep  the  village  back  from  the  shores  of  the 


126 


THKIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


river  on  the  American  side,  and  greatly  help  the 
sight-seer's  pleasure  in  the  place.  The  exquisite 
structure,  which  sways  so  tremulously  from  its 
towers,  and  seems  to  lay  so  slight  a  hold  on  earth 
where  its  cables  sink  into  the  ground,  is  to  other 
bridges  what  the  blood  horse  is  to  the  common 
breed  of  roadsters  ;  and  now  they  felt  its  sensitive 
nerves  quiver  under  them  and  sympathetically 
through  them  as  they  advanced  farther  and  farther 
toward  the  centre.  Perhaps  their  sympathy  with 
the  bridge's  trepidation  was  too  great  for  unalloyed 
delight,  and  yet  the  thrill  was  a  glorious  one,  to  be 
known  only  there  ;  and  afterwards,  at  least,  they 
would  not  have  had  their  airy  path  seem  more 
secure. 

The  last  hues  of  sunset  lingered  in  the  mists  that 
sprung  from  the  base  of  the  Falls  with  a  mournful, 
tremulous  grace,  and  a  movement  weird  as  the 
play  of  the  northern  lights.  They  were  touched 
mth  the  most  delicate  purples  and  crimsons,  that 
darkened  to  deep  red,  and  then  faded  from  them  at 
a  second  look,  and  they  flew  upward,  swiftly  up- 
ward, like  troops  of  pale,  transparent  ghosts ;  while 
a  perfectly  clear  radiance,  better  than  any  other 
for  local  color,  dwelt  upon  the  scene.  Far  under 
the  bridge  the  river  smoothly  swam,  the  undercur- 
rents forever  unfolding  themselves  upon  the  surface 
with  a  vast  rose-like  evolution,  edged  all  round 
with  faint  lines  of  white,  where  the  air  that  filled 
the  water  freed  itself  in  foam.     What  had  been 


NIAGARA. 


129 


clear  green  on  the  face  of  the  cataract  was  here 
more  like  rich  verd-antique,  and  had  a  look  of 
firmness  almost  like  that  of  the  stone  itself.  So 
it  showed  beneath  the  bridge,  and  down  the  river 
till  the  curving  shores  hid  it.  These,  springing 
abruptly  from  the  water's  brink,  and  shagged  with 
pine  and  cedar,  displayed  the  tender  verdure  of 
grass  and  buslies  intermingled  with  the  dark  ever- 
greens that  climb  from  ledge  to  ledge,  till  they 
point  their  speary  tops  above  the  crest  of  blutfs. 
In  front,  where  tumbled  rocks  and  expanses  of 
naked  clay  varied  the  gloomier  and  gayer  green, 
sprung  those  spectral  mists ;  and  through  them 
loomed  out,  in  its  manifold  majesty,  Niagara,  with 
the  seemingly  immovable  white  Gothic  screen  of 
the  American  Fall,  and  the  green  massive  curve  of 
tho  Horse-Shoe,  solid  an  I  simple  and  calm  as  an 
Egyptian  wall ;  while  behind  this,  with  their  white 
and  black  expanses  broken  by  dark  foliaged  little 
isles,  the  steep  Canadian  rapids  billowed  down  be- 
tween their  heavily  wooded  shores. 

The  wedding-journeyers  hung,  they  knew  not 
how  long,  in  rapture  on  the  sight ;  and  then,  look- 
ing back  from  the  shore  to  the  spot  where  they  had 
stood,  they  felt  relieved  that  unreality  should  pos- 
sess itself  of  all,  and  that  the  bridge  should  awing 
there  in  mid-air  like  a  filmy  web,  scarce  more  pass- 
able than  the  rainbow  that  flings  its  arch  above  the 
mists. 

On  the   portico  of  the  hotel  they  found  half  a 
9 


130 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


■i 


Bcore  of  gentlemen  smoking,  and  creating  togethei 
that  collective  silence  which  passes  for  sociality  on 
our  continent.  Some  carriages  stood  before  the 
door,  and  within,  around  the  base  of  a  pillar,  sat  a 
circle  of  idle  call-boys.  There  were  a  few  trunks 
heaped  together  in  one  place,  with  a  porter  stand- 
ing guard  over  them  ;  a  solitary  guest  was  buying 
a  cigar  at  the  newspaper  stand  in  one  corner; 
another  friendless  creature  was  writing  a  letter 
in  the  reading-room  ;  the  clerk,  in  a  seersucker 
coat  and  a  lavish  shirt-bosom,  tried  to  give  the 
whole  an  effect  of  watering-place  gayety  and  bus- 
tle, as  he  provided  a  newly  arrived  guest  with  a 
room.  ^ 

Our  pair  took  in  these  traits  of  solitude  and 
repose  with  indifference.  If  the  hotel  had  been 
thronged  with  brilliant  company,  they  would  have 
been  no  more  and  no  less  pleased ;  and  when, 
after  supper,  they  came  into  the  grand  parlor,  and 
found  nothing  there  but  a  marble-topped  centre- 
table,  with  a  silver-plated  ice-pitcher  and  a  small 
company  of  goblets,  they  sat  down  perfectly  con- 
tent in  a  secluded  window-seat.  They  were  not 
seen  by  the  three  people  who  entered  soon  after, 
and  lialted  in  the  centre  of  the  room. 

"  Why,  Kitty  !  "  said  one  of  the  two  ladies  who 
must  be  in  any  travelling-party  of  three,  "  this  is 
more  inappropriate  to  your  gorgeous  array  than  the 
supper-room,  even." 

She  who  was  called  Kitty  was  armed,  as  for  so- 


I 


NIAGARA. 


131 


cial  conquest,  in  some  kind  of  airy  evening-dress, 
and  was  looking  round  with  bewilderment  upon 
that  forlorn  waste  of  carpeting  and  upholstery. 
She  owned,  with  a  smile,  that  she  had  not  seen  so 
much  of  the  world  yet  as  she  had  been  promised  ; 
but  she  liked  Niagara  very  much,  and  perhaps  they 
should  find  the  world  at  breakfast. 

"  No,"  said  the  other  lady,  who  was  as  unquiet 
as  Kitty  was  calm,  and  who  seemed  resolved  to 
make  the  most  of  the  worst,  "  it  isn't  probable 
that  the  hotel  will  fill  up  overniglit ;  and  1  feel 
personally  responsible  for  this  state  of  things. 
Who  would  ever  have  supposed  that  Niagara 
would  be  so  empty  ?  I  thought  the  place  was 
thronged  the  whole  summer  long.  How  do  you 
account  for  it,  Richard  ?  " 

The  gentleman  looked  fatigued,  as  from  a  long- 
continued  discussion  elsewhere  of  the  matter  in 
hand,  and  he  said  that  he  had  not  been  trying  to 
account  for  it. 

"  'i'hen  you  don't  care  for  Kitty's  pleasure  at  all, 
and  you  don't  want  her  to  enjoy  herself.  Why 
don't  you  take  some  interest  in  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Why,  if  I  accounted  for  the  emptiness  of  Ni- 
agara in  the  most  satisfactory  way,  it  wouldn't 
add  a  soul  to  the  floating  population.  Under  the 
circumstances  I  prefer  to  leave  it  unexplained." 

"  Do  you  think  it 's  because  it 's  such  a  hot  sum- 
mer ?  Do  you  suppose  it 's  not  exactly  the  season  ? 
Didn't  you  expect  there'd  be  more  people  ?  Per- 
hai)s  Niagara  isn't  as  fashionable  as  it  used  to  be.'* 


132 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


It  i 


»» 


"  It  looks  something  like  that.' 

"  Well,  whiit  iintler  the  sun  do  you  think  is  the 
reason  ?  " 

"- 1  don't  know." 

"  Perhaps,"  interposed  Kitty,  placidly,  "  most 
of  the  visitors  go  to  the  other  hotel,  now.  " 

"  It 's  altogether  likely,"  said  the  other  lady, 
eagerly.     "  There  are  just  such  caprices." 

"  Well,"  said  Richard,  "  I  Avanted  you  to  go 
there." 

*•  But  you  said  that  you  always  heard  this  was 
tba  most  fashionable." 

**  I  know  it.  I  didn't  want  to  co.ne  here  for 
that  reason.     But  fortune  favors  the  brave." 

"  Well,  it 's  too  bad  !  Here  we've  asked  Kitty 
to  come  to  Niagara  with  us,  just  to  give  her  a  little 
peep  into  the  world,  and  you've  brought  us  to  a 
hotel  where  we're  "  — 

"  Monarchs  of  all  we  survey,"  suggesteu  Kitty. 

"  Yes,  and  start  at  the  sound  of  our  own,"  added 
the  other  lady,  helplessly. 

'*  Come  now,  Fanny,"  said  the  gentleman,  who 
was  but  too  clearly  the  husband  of  the  last  speaker. 
"  You  know  you  insisted,  against  all  T  could  say  or 
do,  upon  coming  to  this  house ;  I  implored  you  to 
go  to  the  other,  and  now  you  blame  me  for  bring- 
ing you  here." 

"  So  I  do.  If  you'd  let  me  have  my  ovni  way 
without  opposition  about  coming  here,  I  dare  say  I 
should  have  gone  to  the  other  place.     But  never 


NIAGARA. 


133 


i8  the 

"  most 

3r  lady, 

1  to  go 

this  was 

here  for 

ped  Kitty 
er  a  little 
t  us  to  a 

Kitty, 
dded 


»» 


n,    ai 


lan,  who 

^t  speaker. 

lid  say  or 

red  you  to 

I  for  bring- 

owu  way 
I  dare  say  I 
But  never 


mind.  Kitty  knows  whom  to  blame,  I  hope. 
She  *8  1/our  cousin," 

Kitty  was  sitting  with  her  hands  quiescently 
folded  in  her  lap.  She  now  rose  and  said  that  she 
did  not  know  anything  about  the  other  hotel,  and 
perhaps  it  was  just  as  empty  as  tliis. 

"It  can't  be.  There  can't  be  ttvo  hotels  so 
empty,"  said  Fanny.     "  It  don't  stand  to  reason." 

"If  you  wish  Kitty  to  see  the  world  so  much," 
said  the  gentleman,  "  why  don't  you  take  her  on  to 
Quebec,  with  us  ?  " 

Kitty  had  left  her  seat  beside  Fanny,  and  was 
moving  with  a  listless  content  about  the  parlor. 

"  I  wonder  you  ask,  Richard,  when  you  know 
she 's  only  come  for  the  night,  and  has  nothing  with 
her  but  a  few  cuffs  and  collars  !  I  certainly  never 
heard  of  anything  so  absurd  before  !  " 

The  absurdity  of  the  idea  then  seemed  to  cast  its 
charm  upon  her,  for,  after  a  silence,  "  I  could  lend 
her  some  things,"  she  said  musingly.  "  But  don't 
speak  of  it  to-night,  please.  It 's  too  ridiculous. 
Kitty !  "  she  called  out,  and,  as  the  young  lady 
drew  near,  she  continued,  "  How  would  you  like  to 
go  to  Quebec,  with  us  ?  " 

"  O  Fanny !  "  cried  Kitty,  with  rapture ;  and 
then,  with  dismay,  "  How  can  I  ?  " 

"  Why,  very  well,  I  think.  You've  got  this 
dress,  and  your  travelling-suit ;  and  I  can  lend  you 
whatever  you  want.  Come  !  "  she  a<lded  joyously, 
"  let 's  go  up  to  your  room,  and  talk  it  over  I  " 


ll 


134 


THEIR  WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


The  two  ladles  vanished  upon  this  impulse,  and 
the  gentleman  followed.  To  their  own  relief  the 
guiltless  eaves-droppers,  who  found  no  moment 
favorable  for  revealing  themselves  after  the  comedy- 
began,  issued  from  their  retiracy. 

"  What  a  remarkable  little  lady  I "  said  Basil, 
eagerly  turning  to  Isabel  for  sympathy  in  his  en- 
joyment of  her  inconsequence. 

"  Yes,  poor  thing !  "  returned  his  wife ;  "  it  *s  no 
light  mai  ■  '  y*  invite  a  young  lady  to  take  a  jour- 
ney with  you,  ar»i'  promise  her  all  sorts  of  gayety, 
and  perhaps  beaux  and  flirtations,  and  then  find 
heron  your  }  nnds  in  a  desolation  like  this.  It's 
dreadful,  I  think." 

Basil  stared.  "  O,  certainly,"  he  said.  "  But 
what  an  amusingly  illogical  little  body  I  " 

"  I  don't  understand  what  you  mean,  Basil.  It 
was  the  only  thing  that  she  could  do,  to  invite  the 
young  lady  to  go  on  with  them.  I  wonder  her 
husband  had  the  sense  to  think  of  it  first.  Of  course 
she'll  have  to  lend  her  things." 

*'  And  you  didn't  observe  anything  peculiar  in 
her  way  of  reaching  her  conclusions  ?  " 

"  Peculiar  ?     What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

*'  Why,  her  blaming  her  husband  for  letting  her 
have  her  own  way  about  the  hotel ;  and  her  telling 
him  not  to  mention  his  proposal  to  Kitty,  and  then 
doing  it  herself,  just  after  she'd  pronounced  it  ab- 
surd and  impossible."  He  spoke  with  heat  at  being 
forced  to  make  what  he  thought  a  needless  explana- 
tion. 


NIAGAKA. 


135 


"01"  said  Isabel,  after  a  moment's  reflection. 
"  That  !     Did  you  tliink  it  so  very  odd  ?  " 

Her  husband  looked  at  her  with  the  gravity  a 
man  must  feel  when  he  begins  to  perceive  tluit  he 
has  married  the  whole  mystifying  world  of  woman- 
kind in  tlie  woman  of  his  choice,  and  made  no  an- 
swer. Ikit  to  his  own  soul  he  said  :  "  I  supposed  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  my  wife's  acquaintance.  It 
seems  1  have  been  flattering  myself." 

The  next  morning  they  went  out  as  they  had 
planned,  for  an  exploration  of  Goat  Island,  after  an 
early  breakfast.  As  they  sauntered  through  the 
village's  contrasts  of  pigmy  and  colossal  in  archi- 
tecture, they  praisefully  took  in  the  unalloyed  hol- 
iday character  of  the  place,  enjoying  equally  the 
lounging  tourists  at  the  hotel  doors,  the  drivers  and 
their  carriages  to  let,  and  the  little  shops,  with 
nothing  but  mementos  of  Niagara,  and  Indian  bead- 
work,  and  other  trumpery,  to  sell.  Shops  so  use- 
less, they  agreed,  could  not  be  found  outside  the 
Palais  Royale,  or  the  Square  of  St.  Mark,  or  any- 
where else  in  the  world  but  here.  They  felt  them- 
selves once  more  a  part  of  the  tide  of  mere  sight-see- 
ing pleasure-travel,  on  which  they  had  drifted  in 
other  days,  and  in  an  eddy  of  which  their  love  it- 
self had  opened  its  white  blossom,  and  lily-like 
dreamed  upon  the  wave. 

They  were  now  also  part  of  the  great  circle  of 
newly  wedded  bliss,  which,  involving  the  whole 
land  during  the  season  of  bridal-tours,  may  be  said 


136 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


I    I 


to  show  richest  and  fairest  at  Niagara,  like  the  costly 
jewel  of  a  precious  ring.  The  place  is,  in  fact, 
almost  abandoned  to  bridal  couples,  and  any  one 
out  of  his  honey-moon  is  in  some  degree  an  alien 
there,  and  must  discern  a  certain  immodesty  in  his 
intrusion.  Is  it  for  his  profane  eyes  to  look  upon 
all  tliat  blushing  and  trembling  joy?  A  man  of 
any  sensibility  must  desire  to  veil  his  face,  and,  bow- 
ing his  excuses  to  the  collective  rapture,  take  the 
first  train  for  tlie  wicked  outside  world  to  which  he 
belongs.  Everywhere,  he  sees  brides  and  brides. 
Three  or  four  with  the  benediction  still  on  them, 
come  down  in  the  same  car  with  him  ;  he  hands  her 
travelling-shawl  after  one  as  she  springs  from  the 
omnibus  into  her  husband's  arms  ;  tliere  are  two  or 
three  walking  back  and  forth  with  their  new  lords 
upon  tlie  porch  of  the  hotel ;  at  supper  they  are  on 
every  side  of  him,  and  he  feels  himself  suffused,  as  it 
were,  by  a  roseate  atmosphere  of  youth  and  love 
and  hope.  At  breakfast  it  is  the  same,  and  then,  in 
his  wanderings  about  the  place  he  constantly  meets 
them.  They  are  of  all  manners  of  beauty,  fair  and 
dark,  slender  and  plump,  tall  and  short ;  but  they 
are  all  beautiful  with  the  radiance  of  loving  and 
being  loved.  Now,  if  ever  in  their  lives,  they  are 
charmingly  dressed,  and  ravishing  toilets  take  the 
willing  eye  from  the  objects  of  interest.  How  high 
the  heels  of  the  pretty  boots,  how  small  the  tender- 
tinted  gloves,  how  electrical  the  flutter  of  the  snowy 
skirts  !     What  is  Niagara  to  these  things  ? 


NIAGARA. 


137 


and 
are 
the 
ligh 


Isabel  was  not  willing  to  ovm  her  bridal  sister- 
hood to  these  blessed  souls ;  but  she  secretly  re- 
joice<l  in  it,  even  while  she  joined  Basil  in  noting 
their  number  and  smiling  at  their  innocent  abandon. 
She  dropped  his  arm  at  encounter  of  the  first  couple, 
and  walked  carelessly  at  his  side  ;  she  made  a 
solemn  vow  never  to  take  iiold  of  his  watch-chain 
in  S})eaking  to  him  ;  she  trusted  that  she  might  be 
preserved  from  putting  her  face  very  close  to  his 
at  dinner  in  studying  the  bill  of  fare  ;  getting  out 
of  carriages,  she  forbade  him  ever  to  take  her  by 
the  waist.  All  ascetic  resolutions  are  modified  by 
experiment ;  but  if  Isabel  did  not  rigorously  keep 
these,  she  is  not  the  less  to  be  praised  for  having 
formed  them. 

Just  before  they  reached  the  bridge  to  Goat  Isl- 
and, they  passed  a  little  group  of  the  Indians  still 
lingering  about  Niagara,  who  make  the  barbaric 
wares  in  which  the  shops  abound,  and,  like  the 
woods  and  the  wild  faces  of  the  cliffs  and  precipices, 
help  to  keep  the  cataract  remote,  and  to  invest  it 
with  the  charm  of  primeval  loneliness.  This  group 
were  women,  and  they  sat  motionless  on  the  ground, 
smiling  sphinx-like  over  their  laps  full  of  bead-work, 
and  turning  their  dark  liquid  eyes  of  invitation 
upon  the  passers.  They  wore  bright  kirtles,  and 
red  shawls  fell  from  their  heads  over  their  plump 
brown  cheeks  and  down  their  comfortable  persons. 
A  little  girl  with  them  was  attired  in  like  gayety 
of  color.     "  What  is  her  name  ? "   asked   Isabel, 


w 


138 


THEIR   WKDDING  JOURNEY. 


! 


I 


paying  for  a  bead  pincusliion.  "  Daisy  Smith,* 
said  her  mother,  in  distressingly  good  English. 
"  But  her  Indian  name  ?  "  "  She  has  none,"  an- 
swered the  woman,  who  told  Basil  that  her  village 
numbered  five  hundred  people,  and  that  they  were 
Protestants.  While  they  talked  they  were  joined 
by  an  Indian,  whom  the  women  saluted  musically 
in  their  native  tongue.  This  was  somewhat  con- 
soling ;  but  he  wore  trousers  and  a  waistcoat,  and 
it  could  have  been  wished  that  he  had  not  a  silk 
hat  on. 

"  Still,"  said  Isabel,  as  they  turned  away,  "  I'm 
glad  he  hasn't  Lisle-thread  gloves,  like  that  chief- 
tain we  saw  putting  his  forest  queen  on  board  the 
train  at  Oneida.  But  how  shocking  that  they 
should  be  Christians,  and  Protestants !  It  would 
have  been  bad  enough  to  have  them  Catholics. 
And  that  woman  said  that  they  were  increasing. 
They  ought  to  be  fading  away." 

On  the  bridge,  they  paused  and  looked  up  and 
down  the  rapids  rushing  down  the  slope  in  all  their 
wild  variety,  with  the  white  crests  of  breaking  surf, 
the  dark  massiveness  of  heavy-climbing  waves,  the 
fleet,  smooth  sweep  of  currents  over  broad  shelves  of 
sunken  rock,  the  dizzy  swirl  and  suck  of  whirlpools. 

Spell-bound,  the  journeyers  pored  upon  the  death- 
ful  course  beneath  their  feet,  gave  a  shudder  to  the 
horror  of  being  cast  upon  it,  and  then  hurried  over 
the  bridge  to  the  island,  in  the  shadow  of  whose 
wildness  they  sought  refuge  from  the  sight  and 
sound. 


NIAGARA. 


189 


There  had  been  rain  in  the  night ;  the  air  was 
full  of  forest  fragrance,  and  the  low,  sweet  voice  of 
twittering  birds.  Presently  they  came  to  a  bench 
set  in  a  corner  of  the  path,  and  commanding  a 
pleasant  vista  of  sunlit  foliage,  with  a  mere  gleam 
of  the  foaming  river  beyond.  As  they  sat  down 
here  loverwise,  Basil,  as  in  the  early  days  of  their 
courtship,  began  to  recite  a  poem.  It  was  one 
which  had  been  haunting  him  since  his  first  sight 
of  the  rapids,  one  of  many  that  he  used  to  learn  by 
heart  in  his  youth  —  the  rhyme  of  some  poor  news- 
paper poet,  whom  the  third  or  fourth  editor  copying 
his  verses  consigned  to  oblivion  by  carelessly  clip- 
ping his  name  from  the  bottom.  It  had  always 
lingered  in  Basil's  memory,  rather  from  the  inter- 
est of  the  awful  fact  it  recorded,  than  from  any 
merit  of  its  own ;  and  now  he  recalled  it  with  a 
distinctness  that  surprised  him. 

AVERY. 


I. 

All  night  long  they  heard  in  the  houses  beside  the  shore, 

Htard,  or  seemed  to  hear,  through  the  multitudinous  roar, 

Out  of  the  hell  of  the  rapids  as  'twere  a  lost  soul's  cries  : 

Heard  and  could  not  believe  ;  and  the  morning  mocked  their  eyes. 

Showing  where  wildest  and  fiercest  the  waters  leaped  up  and  ran 

Raving  round  him  and  past,  the  visage  of  a  man 

Clinging,  or  seeming  to  cling,  to  the  trunk  of  a  tree  that,  caught 

Fast  in  the  rocks  below,  scarce  out  of  the  surges  raught. 

Was  it  a  life,  could  it  be,  to  yon  slender  hope  that  clung  .' 

Shrill,  above  all  the  tumult  the  answering  terror  rung. 


. 


140 


THKIR    WIDDINd   JOURXKY. 


It. 


Under  tlic  wcltorinj;  riipidMa  Ixtat  (rom  the  hridjfe  it<  drowned, 
Over  the  rocks  the  linos  ofanotlu'r  are  tiiii^^led  and  wound, 
And  tile  Ion;;,  tatel'iil  hours  of  the  morning''  have  wasted  8oun, 
As  it  htid  lecn  in  some  l)lcs»ed  trance,  and  now  it  is  noon. 
Hurry,  now  with  the  raft !     But  (),  luiild  it  Ktronjj  and  staneh, 
And  to  ihf  lines  and  the  treacherous  rocks  K)ok  well  as  von  launch 
Over  the  foamy  tops  of  the  waves,  and  their  foam-.><|)rent  sides, 
Over  the  hidden  reefs,  and  throiinh  the  embattled  tides, 
Onward  rushes  the  raft,  with  nuuiy  a  Inndi  and  leaj), — 
liord  !  if  it  strike  him  loose  from  the  hold  he  scarce  can  keep  ! 
No!  throu;;h  all  ))eril  unharmed,  it  reaches  him  harmless  at  last, 
And  to  its  proven  streti<;th  he  lashes  his  weakness  fast. 
Now,  for  the  sluire  !     But  steady,  steady,  my  men,  and  slow ; 
Taut,  now.  t!ie  (|uiverinj?  lines  ;  now  slack  ;  and  so,  let  her  go! 
Thron};in^  the  shores  around  stands  the  pitying;  multitude; 
Wan  as  his  own  are  their  looks,  and  a  nij^htmare  seems  to  brood 
Heavy  upon  them,  and  heavy  the  silence  hangs  on  all, 
Save  for  the  rapids'  plunge,  and  the  thunder  of  the  fall. 
Buto'*.  a  sudden  thrills  from  the  people  still  and  pale, 
Choru'sing  his  unheard  despair,  a  desperate  wail : 
Caught  on  a  lurking  point  of  rock  it  sways  and  swings, 
Sport  of  the  pitiless  waters,  the  raft  to  which  he  clings. 


III. 

All  the  long  afternooti  it  idly  swings  and  sways  ; 

And  on  the  shore  the  crowd  lifts  up  its  hands  and  prays : 

Lifts  to  heaven  and  wrings  the  hands  so  helpless  to  save. 

Prays  for  the  mercy  of  God  on  him  whom  the  rock  and  the  wave 

Battle  for,  fettered  betwixt  them,  and  who  amidst  their  strife 

Struggles  to  help  his  helpers,  and  tights  so  hard  for  his  life,  — 

Tugging  at  rope  and  at  reef,  while  men  weep  and  women  swoon. 

Priceless  second  by  second,  so  wastes  the  afternoon. 

And  it  is  sunset  now  ;  and  another  boat  and  the  last 

Down  to  him  from  the  bridge  through  the  rapids  has  safely  passed. 

IV. 

Wild  through  the  crowd  comes  flying  a  man  that  nothing  can  stay, 
Maddening  against  the  gate  that  is  locked  athwart  his  way. 


NIAGARA. 


141 


"  No  !  wo  keep  tlie  bridge  for  them  thnt  onn  help  lu'm      You, 

Tell  us,  who  are  you?"     "His  brother!"     "God  help  you  both! 

l•a^8  thioiigh." 
Wild,  wiili  wide  arms  of  imploring  he  cnlla  aloud  to  him, 
Unto  th(!  fjice  of  his  brother,  scarce  seen  in  the  distance  dim  ; 
liut  in  the  roiir  of  the  rapiils  his  fluttering  words  are  lost 
As  in  a  wind  of  autumn  the  leaves  of  autumn  are  tossed. 
And  from  the  bridge  he  sees  his  brother  sever  the  ropo 
Holding  him  to  the  raft,  and  rise  secure  in  his  hope  ; 
Sees  all  as  in  a  dream  the  terrible  pageantry,  — 
Populous  shores,  the  woods,  the  sky,  the  birds  flying  free; 
Sees,  then,  the  form  —  that,  spent  with  oflTort  and  fasting  and  fear, 
Flings  itself  ft'cbly  and  fails  of  the  boat  that  is  lying  so  near, — 
Caught  in  the  long-baffled  clutch  of  the  rapids,  and  rolled  and  hurled 
Headlong  on  to  the  cataract's  brink,  and  out  of  the  world. 

*'  O  Basil !  "  said  Isabel,  with  a  long  sigh  ^reak- 
ing  the  hush  that  best  praised  the  unkno\vii  poet's 
skill,  "  it  isnt  true,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Every  word,  almost,  even  to  the  brother's  com- 
ing at  the  last  moment.  It 's  a  very  \vell-kiio\vn 
incident,"  he  added,  and  I  am  sure  the  reader 
whose  memory  runs  back  twenty  years  cannot  have 
forgotten  it. 

Niagara,  indeed,  is  an  awful  homicide ;  nearly 
every  point  of  interest  about  the  place  has  killed 
its  man,  and  there  might  well  be  a  deeper  stain  of 
crimson  than  it  ever  wears  in  tliat  pretty  bow  over- 
arching the  falls.  Its  beauty  is  relieved  against  an 
historical  background  as  gloomy  as  the  liuhtest- 
hearted  tourist  could  desire.  The  abominable  sav- 
ages, revering  the  cataract  as  a  kind  of  august 
devil,  and  leading  a  life  of  demoniacal  misery  and 
wickedness,  whom  the  first  Jesuits  found  here  two 


'.  I 


142 


THEIR   WEDDING   .TOURNEY. 


hundred  years  ago  ;  the  ferocious  Iroquois  bloodily 
driving  out  these  squalid  devil-worshippers ;  the 
French  planting  the  fort  that  yet  guards  the  mouth 
of  the  river,  and  therewith  the  seeds  of  war  that 
fruited  afterwards  in  murderous  strifes  throughout 
the  wliole  Niagara  country  ;  the  struggle  for  the 
military  posts  on  the  river,  during  the  wars  of 
France  and  England  ;  the  awfui  scene  in  the  con- 
spiracy )i  Pontiac,  where  a  detachment  of  English 
troops  *vas  driven  by  the  Indians  over  the  precipice 
near  tht-  great  Whirlpool ;  the  sorrow  and  havoc 
visited  upon  the  American  settlements  in  the  Rev- 
olution by  the  savages  who  prepared  their  attacks 
in  the  shadow  of  Fort  Niagara ;  the  battles  of 
Chippewa  and  of  l^undy's  Lane,  that  mixed  the 
roar  of  their  cannon  Avith  that  of  the  fall ;  the  sav- 
age forays  with  tomahawk  and  scalping-knife,  and 
the  blazing  villages  on  either  shore  in  the  War  of 
1812,  —  these  are  the  memories  of  the  place,  the 
links  in  a  chain  of  tragical  interest  scarcely  broken 
before  our  time  since  the  white  man  first  beheld 
the  mist-veiled  face  of  Niagara.  The  facts  lost 
nothing  of  their  due  effect  as  Basil,  in  the  ramble 
across  Ooat  Island,  touched  them  with  the  reflected 
light  of  Mr.  Parkman's  histories,  —  those  precious 
books  that  make  our  meagre  past  wear  something 
of  the  rich  romance  of  old  European  days,  and 
illumine  its  savage  solitudes  with  the  splendor  of 
mediaeval  chivalry,  and  the  glory  of  mediaeval  mar- 
tyrdom, —  and  then,  lacking  this  light,  turned  upon 


NIAGARA. 


143 


them  the  feeble  glimmer  of  the  guide-books.  He 
and  Issibel  enjoyed  the  huid  picture  witli  all  the 
zest  of  sentimentalists  dwelling  upon  the  troubles 
of  other  times  from  the  shelter  of  the  safe  and 
peaceful  present.  They  were  both  poets  in  their 
quality  of  bridal  couple,  and  so  long  as  their  own 
nerves  were  unshaken  they  could  transmute  all 
facts  to  entertaining  fables.  They  pleasantly  ex- 
ercised their  sympathies  upon  those  who  every  year 
perish  at  Niagara  in  the  tradition  of  its  awful 
power ;  only  they  refused  their  cheap  and  selfish 
compassion  to  the  Hermit  of  Goat  Island,  who 
dwelt  so  many  years  in  its  conspicuous  seclusion, 
and  was  finally  carried  over  the  cataract.  This 
public  character  they  suspected  of  design  in  his 
death  as  in  his  life,  and  they  would  not  be  moved 
by  his  memory  ;  though  they  gave  a  sigh  to  that 
dream,  half  pathetic,  half  ludicrous,  yet  not  igno- 
ble, of  jVIordecai  Noah,  who  thought  to  assemble 
all  tlie  Jews  of  the  world,  and  all  the  Indians,  as 
remnants  of  the  lost  tribes,  upon  Grand  Island, 
there  to  rebuild  Jerusalem,  and  who  actually  laid 
the  corner-stone  of  the  new  temple  there. 

(joat  Island  is  marvelously  wild  for  a  place  vis- 
ited by  so  many  thousands  every  year.  The  shrub- 
bery and  undergrowth  remain  unravaged,  and  form 
a  deceitful  privacy,  in  which,  even  at  that  early 
hour  of  the  day,  they  met  many  other  pairs.  It 
seemed  incredible  that  the  village  and  the  hotels 
should  be  so  full,  and  that  the  wilderness  should 


^w 


\  . 


II 


144 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


also  abound  in  them  ;  yet  on  every  embowered 
seat,  and  going  to  and  from  all  points  of  interest 
and  danger,  were  these  new-wedded  lovers  with 
their  interlacing  arms  and  their  fond  attitudes,  in 
which  each  seemed  to  support  and  lean  upon  the 
other.  Such  a  pair  stood  prominent  before  them 
when  Basil  and  Isabel  emerged  at  last  from  the 
cover  of  the  woods  at  the  head  of  the  island,  and 
glanced  up  the  broad  swift  stream  to  the  point 
where  it  ran  smooth  before  breaking  into  the  rap- 
ids ;  and  as  a  soft  pastoral  feature  in  the  foreground 
of  that  magnificent  landscape,  they  found  them  far 
from  unpleasing.  Some  such  pair  is  in  the  fore- 
ground of  every  famous  American  landscape  ;  and 
when  I  think  of  the  amount  of  public  love-making 
in  the  season  of  pleasure-travel,  from  Mount  Desert 
to  the  Yosemite,  and  from  the  parks  of  Colorado  to 
the  Keys  of  Florida,  1  feel  that  our  continent  is 
but  a  larger  Arcady,  that  the  middle  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  is  the  golden  age,  and  that  we  want 
very  little  of  being  a  nation  of  shepherds  and  shep- 
herdesses. 

Our  friends  returned  by  the  shore  of  the  Cana- 
dian rapids,  having  traversed  the  island  by  a  path 
through  the  heart  of  the  woods,  and  now  drew 
slowly  near  the  Falls  again.  All  parts  of  the  pro- 
digious pag(nint  have  an  eternal  novelty,  and  they 
beheld  the  ever-varying  effect  of  that  constant  sub- 
limity with  the  sense  of  discoverers,  or  rather  of 
people  whose  great  fortune  it  is  to  see  the  marvel 


NIAGARA. 


145 


ered 
arest 
with 
;3,  in 
11  the 
them 
a  the 
[,  and 
point 
5  rap- 
;round 
jm  far 
I   fore- 
j;  and 
making 
Desert 
rado  to 
ivent  is 
nine- 
l^e  want 
d  shep- 


iu  its  beginning,  and  new  from  the  creating  hand. 
The  morning  hour  lent  its  sunny  charm  to  tliis  illu- 
sion, while  in  the  cavernous  precipices  of  the  shores, 
dark  with  evergreens,  a  mystery  as  of  primeval 
night  seemed  to  linger.  There  was  a  wild  flutter- 
ing of  their  nerves,  a  rapture  with  an  under-con- 
sciousness  of  pain,  the  exaltation  of  peril  and  es- 
cape, when  they  came  to  the  three  little  isles  that 
extend  from  Goat  Island,  one  beyond  another  far 
out  into  the  furious  channel.  Three  pretty  suspen- 
sion-bridges connect  them  now  with  the  larger  isl 
and,  and  under  each  of  these  flounders  a  huge  rapid, 
and  hurls  itself  away  to  mingle  with  the  ruin  of  the 
fall.  The  Three  Sisters  are  mere  fragments  of 
wilderness,  clumps  of  vine-tangled  woods,  planted 
upon  masses  of  rock  ;  but  they  are  part  of  the  fas- 
cination of  Niagara  which  no  one  resists  ;  nor  could 
Isabel  have  been  persuaded  from  exploring  them. 
It  v/ants  no  courage  to  do  this,  but  merely  submis- 
sion to  the  local  sorcery,  and  the  adventurer  has  no 
other  reward  than  the  couvsciousness  of  having  been 
where  but  a  few  years  before  no  human  being  had 
perliaps  set  foot.  She  crossed  trom  bridge  to  bridge 
with  a  quaking  heart,  and  at  last  stood  upon  the 
outermost  isle,  whence,  through  the  screen  of  vines 
:ind  boughs,  she  gave  fearful  glances  at  the  heaving 
and  tossing  flood  beyond,  from  every  wave  of  which 
at  every  instant  she  rescued  herself  with  a  desperate 
struggle.  The  exertion  told  heavily  upon  her 
strength  unawares,  and  she  suddenly  made  Basil 

10 


146 


THKIU    WKDDINO  JOUUNKY. 


another    revelation    of    character.      Without    the 


o^7J^ 


i^ii:<* 


1  <_ 


Blightest  warning  she  sank  doNvn  at  the  root  of  a  tree, 
and  said,  with   serious  composure,  that  she  could 


NIAGARA. 


147 


nevftrgo  back  on  tliose  bri<lg«s  ;  tliey  were  not  safe. 
He  stared  at  her  cowering  form  in  blank  amaze,  and 
put  his  hands  in  liis  pockets.  Then  it  occurred  to 
liis  dull  musculiiK'  sense  that  it  must  be  a  joke  ;  and 
he  said,  ''  Well,  I'll  have  you  taken  off  in  a  boat." 

*'  O  do^  Hasil,  do^  have  me  taken  off  in  a  boat  I " 
implorcid  Isabtd.  '•  You  see  yourself  the  bridges 
are  not  safe.     Do  get  a  boat." 

"  Or  a  balloon,"  he  suggested,  liumoring  the 
pleasantry. 

Isabel  burst  into  tears  ;  and  now  he  went  on  his 
knees  at  her  side,  and  took  her  hands  in  his.  "  Isa- 
bel !  Isabel  I  Are  you  crazy  ?  "  he  cried,  as  if  he 
mejint  to  go  mad  himself.  She  moaned  and  shud- 
dered in  reply  ;  he  said,  to  mend  matters,  that  it 
was  a  jest,  about  the  boat ;  and  he  was  driven  to 
despair  when  Isabel  repeated,  **  I  never  can  go  back- 
by  the  bridges,  never." 

"But  what  do  you  propose  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  I  don't  know  !  " 

He  would  try  sarcasm.  "  Do  you  intend  to  set 
up  a  hermitage  here,  and  have  your  meals  sent  out 
from  the  hotel  ?  It 's  a  charmin:^  spot,  and  visited 
pretty  constantly  ;  but  it 's  small,  even  for  a  hermi- 


tag(i. 


Isabel  moaned  again  with  her  hands  still  on  her 
eyes,  and  wondered  that  he  was  not  ashamed  to 
make  fun  of  her. 

He  would  try  kindness.  "  Perhaps,  darling, 
you'll  let  me  carry  you  ashore." 


\\ 


'  A 


T^r 


148 


THEIR     WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


"  No,  that  will  bring  double  the  weight  on  the 
bridge  at  once." 

"  Couldn't  you  shut  your  eyes,  and  let  me  lead 
you  ?  " 

"  Why,  it  isn't  the  %ight  of  the  rapids,"  she  said, 
looking  up  fiercely.  '*  The  bridges  are  not  safe. 
I'm  not  a  child^  Basil.     O,  tvhat  shall  we  do  ?  " 

"•  I  don't  know,"  said  Basil,  gloomily.  "  It 's 
an  exigency  for  which  I  wasn't  prepared."  Then 
he  silently  gave  himself  to  the  Evil  One,  for  hav- 
ing probably  overwrought  Isabel's  nerves  by  re- 
peating that  poem  about  Avery,  and  by  the  ensu- 
ing talk  about  Niagara,  which  she  had  seemed  to 
enjoy  so  much.  He  asked  her  if  that  was  it  ;  and 
she  answered,  "  O  no,  it 's  nothing  but  the  bridges." 
lie  proved  to  her  that  the  bridges,  upon  all  known 
principles,  were  perfectly  safe,  and  that  they  could 
not  give  way.  She  sh(jok  her  head,  but  made  no 
answer,  and  he  lost  his  j>atience. 

'*  Isabel,"  he  cried,  "■  I'm  ashamed  of  you  !" 

''  Don't  say  anything  you'll  be  sorry  for  after- 
wards, Basil,"  she  replied,  with  the  forbearance  of 
those  who  have  reason  and  justice  on  their  side. 

The  I'apids  beat  and  shouted  round  their  little 
prison-isle,  each  billow  leaping  as  if  possessed  by  a 
separate  demon.  The  absurd  horror  of  the  situa- 
tion overwhelmed  him.  He  dared  not  attempt  to 
carry  her  ashore,  for  she  might  spring  from  liis 
grasp  into  the  flood.  He  could  not  leave  her  to 
call  for  help  ;  and  what  if  nobody  came  till  she  lost 


NIAGARA. 


149 


her  mind  from  terror  ?  Or,  what  if  somebody 
should  come  and  find  them  in  that  ridiculous  afflic- 
tion ? 

Somebody  was  coming ! 

"  Isabel ! "  he  shouted  in  her  ear,  "  here  come 
those  people  we  saw  in  the  parlor  last  night." 

Isabel  dashed  her  veil  over  her  face,  clutched 
Basil's  with  her  icy  hand,  rose,  drew  her  arm  con- 
vulsively through  his,  and  walked  ashore  without  a 
word. 

In  a  sheltered  nook  they  sat  down,  and  she 
quickly  "•  repaired  her  drooping  head  and  tricked 
her  beams "  again.  He  could  see  her  tearfully 
smiling  through  her  veil.  "  My  dear,"  he  said,  "  I 
don't  ask  an  explanation  of  your  fright,  for  I  don't 
suppose  you  could  give  it.  But  should  you  mind 
telling  me  why  those  people  were  so  sovereign 
against  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  dearest  I  Don't  you  understand  ?  That 
Mrs.  Richard  —  whoever  she  is  —  is  so  much  like 


me. 


♦» 


She  looked  at  him  as  if  she  had  made  the  most 
satisfying  statement,  and  he  thought  he  had  better 
not  ask  further  then,  but  wait  in  hope  that  the 
meaning  would  come  to  him.  They  walked  on  in 
silence  till  they  came  to  the  Biddle  Stairs,  at  the 
head  of  which  is  a  notice  that  persons  have  been 
killed  by  pieces  of  rock  from  the  precipice  overhang- 
ing the  shore  below,  and  warning  people  that  they 
descend  at  their  peril.     Isabel  declined  to  visit  the 


160 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


Cave  of  the  Winds,  to  which  these  stairs  lead,  but 
was  willing  to  risk  the  ascent  of  Terrapin  Tower. 
"  Thanks  ;  no,"  said  her  husband.  "  You  might 
find  it  unsafe  to  come  back  the  way  you  went  up. 
We  can't  count  certainly  upon  the  appearance  of 
the  lady  who  is  so  much  like  you  ;  and  I've  no 
fancy  for  spending  my  life  on  Terrapin  Tower." 
So  he  found  her  a  seat,  and  went  alone  to  the  top 
of  the  audacious  little  structure  standing  on  the 
verge  of  the  cataract,  between  the  smootli  curve  of 
the  Horse-Shoe  and  the  sculptured  front  of  the  Cen- 
tral Fall,  with  the  stormy  sea  of  the  Rapids  beliind, 
and  the  river,  dim  seen  through  the  mists,  crawling 
away  between  its  lofty  bluffs  before.  He  knew 
again  the  awful  delight  with  which  so  long  ago  he 
had  watched  the  changes  in  the  beauty  of  the  Ca- 
nadian Fall  as  it  hung  a  mass  of  translucent  green 
from  the  brink,  and  a  pearly  white  seemed  to  crawl 
up  from  the  abyss,  and  penetrate  all  its  substance 
to  the  very  crest,  and  then  suddenly  vanished  from 
it,  and  perpetually  renewed  the  same  effect.  The 
mystery  of  the  rising  vapors  veiled  the  gulf  into 
which  the  cataract  swooped  ;  the  sun  shone,  and  a 
rainbow  dreamed  upon  them. 

Near  the  foot  of  the  tower,  some  loose  rocks 
extend  quite  to  the  verge,  and  here  Basil  saw  an 
elderly  gentleman  skipping  from  one  slippery  stone 
to  another,  and  looking  down  from  time  to  time 
into  the  abyss,  who,  when  he  had  amused  himself 
long  enough  in  this  way,  clambered  up  on  the  plank 


NIAGARA. 


151 


bridge.     Basil,  who   had  desceiKUnl   by  this  time, 
made  bold  to  say  that  he  thought  the  diversion  an 


odd  one  and  rather  dangerous.  The  gentleman 
took  this  in  good  part,  and  owiied  it  miglit  seem  so, 
but  added  that  a   distinguished    plirenoiogist    had 


152 


THKIR   WEDDING   JOURNKY. 


examined  his  head,  and  told  him  he  liad  equilib- 
rium so  large  that  he  could  go  anywiiere. 

**  On  your  bridal  tour,  I  presume,"  he  continued, 
as  they  approached  the  bench  where  Basil  had  left 
Isabel.  She  had  now  the  company  of  a  plain, 
middle-aged  woman,  whose  attire  hesitatingly  ex- 
pressed some  inward  festivity,  and  had  a  certain 
reluctant  fashionableness.  "  Well,  this  is  my  third 
bridal  tour  to  Niagara,  and  wife  's  been  here  once 
before  on  the  same  business.  We  see  a  good  many 
changes.  I  used  to  stand  on  Table  Rock  with  the 
others.  Now  that 's  all  gone.  Well,  old  lady, 
shall  we  move  on  ?  "  he  asked  ;  and  this  bridal  pair 
passed  up  the  path,  attended,  haply,  by  the  guar- 
dian spirits  of  those  who  gave  the  place  so  many 
sad  yet  pleasing  associations. 

At  dinner,  Mr.  Richard's  party  sat  at  the  table 
next  Basil's,  and  thev  were  all  now  talkini;  cheer- 
fully  over  the  emptiness  of  the  spacious  dining-hall. 

"  Well,  Kitty,"  the  married  lady  was  saying, 
"  you  can  tell  the  girls  what  you  please  about  the 
gayeties  of  Niagai'a,  Avhen  you  get  home.  They'll 
believe  anything  sooner  than  the  truth." 

"  O  yes,  indeed,"  said  Kitty,  "  I've  got  a  good 
deal  of  it  made  up  already.  I'll  describe  a  grand 
hop  at  the  hotel,  with  fashionable  people  from  all 
parts  of  the  country,  and  the  gentlemen  I  danced 
with  the  most.  I'm  going  to  have  had  quite  a  flir- 
tation with  the  gentleman  of  the  long  blond  mus- 
tache, whom  we  met  on  the  bridge  this  morning, 


NIAGARA. 


]r>n 


Hinl  lie  'h  got  to  do  duty  in  accounting  for  my  miss- 
ing glove.  It'll  never  ilo  to  tell  the  girls  I  dn)j)|»e<l 
it  from  the  top  of  Terrapin  Tower.  Then  you 
know,  Fanny,  I  really  can  say  something  about 
(lining  with  aristocratic  Southerners,  waited  upon 
b^  their  black  servants." 

Tills  referred  to  the   sad-faced   patrician  whom 
Dasil  and  Isabel  had  noted  in  the  cars  from  Butl'alo 


ing, 


^.^ 
^^^-> 


as  a  Southerner  probably  coming  North  for  the 
first  time  since  the  war.  He  had  an  air  at  once 
lierce  and  sad,  and  a  half-barbaric,  homicidal  gen- 
tility of  manner  fascinating  enough  in  its  way. 
He  sat  with  his  wife  at  a  table  farther  down  the 
room,  and  their  child  was  served  in  part  by  a  little 
tan-colored  nurse-maid.  The  fact  did  not  quite 
answer  to  the  young  lady's  description  of  it,  and 
yet  it  certainly  afforded  her  a  ground- work.     Hasil 


154 


TIIKIR   WKDDINO  JOURNKY. 


I 


fancied  a  sort  of  bewilderment  in  the  Southemor, 
and  explained  it  upon  the  theory  that  he  used  to 
come  every  year  to  Niagara  before  the  war,  and 
was  now  puzzled  to  find  it  so  changed. 

*'  Yes,"  he  said,  **  I  can't  account  for  him  exoejit 
as  the  ghost  of  Southern  travel,  and  I  can't  help 
feeling  a  little  sorry  for  him.  I  suppose  that 
almost  any  evil  commends  itself  by  its  ruin  ;  the 
wrecks  of  slavery  are  fast  growing  a  fungus  crop  of 
sentiment,  and  they  may  yet  outflourish  the  re- 
mains of  the  feudal  system  in  the  kind  of  poetry 
they  produce.  The  impoverished  slave-holder  is  a 
pathetic  figure,  in  spite  of  all  justice  and  reason  ; 
the  beaten  rebel  does  move  us  to  compassion,  and 
it  is  of  no  use  to  think  of  Andersonville  in  his  pres- 
ence. This  gentleman,  and  others  like  him,  used 
to  be  the  lords  of  our  summer  resorts.  They  spent 
the  money  they  did  not  earn  like  princes;  they 
held  their  heads  high  ;  they  trampled  upon  the 
Abolitionist  in  his  lair;  they  received  the  homage 
of  the  doughface  in  his  home.  They  came  up  here 
from  their  rice-swamps  and  cotton-fields,  and  bul- 
lied the  whole  busy  civilization  of  the  North. 
Everybody  who  had  merchandise  or  principles  to 
sell  truckled  to  them,  and  travel  amongst  us  was  a 
triumphal  progress.  Now  they're  moneyless  and 
subjugated  (as  they  call  it),  there  's  none  so  poor 
to  do  them  reverence,  and  it 's  left  for  me,  an  Abo- 
litionist from  the  cradle,  to  sigh  over  their  fate. 
After  all,  they  had  noble  traits,  and  it  was  no 


,«  ; 


M 


NIAGARA. 


loo 


great  wonder  they  got  to  despise  us,  seeing  wliat 
most  of  us  were.  It  seems  to  me  I  should  like  to 
know  our  friend.  I  can't  heip  feeling  towanls  him 
as  towards  a  fallen  prince,  heaven  help  my  craven 
spirit  I  I  wonder  how  our  colored  waiter  feels 
towards  him.  I  dare  siy  he  admires  him  im- 
mensely." 

There  were  not  above  h  dozen  other  people  in 
the  room,  and  Basil  contmsted  the  scene  with  that 
which  the  same  place  formerly  presented.  "  In 
the  old  time,"  he  said,  "  every  table  was  full,  and 
we  dined  to  the  music  of  a  brass  band.  I  can't 
say  I  liked  the  band,  but  I  miss  it.  I  wonder  if 
our  Southern  friend  misses  it  ?  They  gave  us  a 
very  small  allowance  of  brass  band  when  we  ar- 
rived, Isabel.  Upon  my  word,  I  wonder  what 's 
come  over  the  place,"  he  said,  as  the  Southern 
party,  rising  from  the  table,  walked  out  of  the  din- 
ing-room, attended  by  many  treacherous  e<*l!oes  in 
spite  of  an  ostentatious  clatter  of  dishes  that  the 
waiters  made. 

After  dinner  they  drove  on  the  Canada  shore 
up  past  the  Clifton  House,  towards  the  Burning 
■"Spring,  which  is  not  the  least  wonder  of  Niagara. 
Ah  each  bubble  breaks  upon  the  troubled  surface, 
and  yields  its  flash  of  infernal  flame  and  its  whiff 
of  sulphurous  stench,  it  seems  hardly  strange  that 
the  Neutral  Nation  should  have  revered  the  cat- 
aract n^  a  demon  ;  and  another  subtle  spell  (not  to 
be  brc     »  even  by  the  business-like .  composure  of 


156 


THEIR   WKDDING  JOURNEY. 


the  man  who  shows  off  the  hell-broth)  is  added  to 
those  suiureasive  sorceries  by  which  Niagara  grad- 
ually changes  from  a  thing  of  beauty  to  a  thing  of 
terror,  hy  all  odds,  too,  the  most  tremendous 
view  of  the  Falls  is  a'Tordml  by  the  p:)int  on  this 
<lriv('  whence  you  look  down  upon  the  lIorsL'-Shoe, 
and  bi-fhold  its  three  massive  walls  of  sea  rounding 
and  sweeping  into  the  gulf  together,  the  color  gone, 
and  tlie  snooth  brink  showing  black  and  ri<lgy. 

Would  they  not  go  to  the  battle-field  of  Lundy's 
Lane?  asked  the  driver  at  a  certain  point  on  their 
return  ;  but  Isabel  did  not  care  for  battle-fields, 
and  liasil  preferred  to  keep  intact  the  reminiscence 
of  his  former  visit.  "  They  have  a  sort  of  tower 
of  observation  built  on  the  battle-ground,"  he  said, 
as  they  drove  on  down  by  the  river,  "and  it  was 
in  charge  of  an  old  Canadian  militia-man,  who 
had  helped  his  countrymen  to  be  beaten  in  the 
fight.  This  hero  gave  me  a  simple  and  unintelli- 
gible account  of  the  battle,  asking  me  first  if  I  had 
ever  heard  of  General  Scott,  and  acUling  without 
flinching  that  here  he  got  his  earliest  laurels.  He 
seemed  to  go  just  so  long  to  every  listener,  and 
nothing  could  stop  him  short,  so  I  fell  into  a  revery 
until  he  came  to  an  end.  It  was  hard  to  remem- 
ber, that  sweet  summer  morning,  when  the  sun 
shone,  and  the  birds  sang,  and  the  music  of  a  piano 
and  a  girl's  voice  rose  from  a  bowery  cottage  near, 
that  all  the  pure  air  had  once  been  tainted  with 
battle-smoke,   that   the   peaceful   fields    had   been 


KIAGARA. 


157 


planted  \vith  cannon,  instead  of  potatoes  and  com, 
and  that  where  tlie  cows  came  down  the  farmer's 
lane,  with  tinkling  bells,  the  shock  of  armed  men 
had  befallen.  The  blue  and  tranquil  Ontario 
gleamed  far  away,  and  far  away  rolled  the  beauti- 
ful land,  with  farm-houses,  fields,  and  wootls,  and 
at  the  foot  of  the  tower  lay  the  pretty  village. 
The  battle  of  the  past  seemed  only  a  vagary  of 
mine;  yet  how  could  I  doubt  the  warrior  at  my 
elbow  ?  —  grieved  though  I  was  to  find  that  a 
habit  of  strong  drink  had  the  better  of  his  utter- 
ance that  morning.  My  driver  explained  after- 
wards, that  persons  visiting  the  field  were  com- 
monly so  much  pleased  with  the  captain's  eloquence, 
that  they  kept  the  noble  old  soldier  in  a  brandy- 
and-water  rapture  throughout  the  season,  thereby 
greatly  refreshing  his  memory,  .and  making  the  bat- 
tle bloodier  and  bloodier  as  the  sejison  advanced  and 
the  number  of  visitors  increased.  There  my  dear," 
he  suddenly  broke  off,  as  they  came  in  sight  of  a 
slender  stream  of  water  that  escaped  from  the  brow 
of  a  cliff  on  the  American  side  below  the  Falls, 
and  spun  itself  into  a  gauze  of  silvery  mist,  "  that 's 
the  Bridal  Veil ;  and  I  suppose  you  think  the 
stream,  which  is  making  such  a  fine  display,  yon- 
der, is  some  idle  brooklet,  ending  a  long  course  of 
error  and  worthlessness  by  that  spectacular  plunge. 
It 's  nothing  of  the  kind  ;  it 's  an  honest  hydraulic 
canal,  of  the  most  straightforward  character,  a  poor 
but  respectable  mill-race  which  has  devoted  itself 


1.58 


THEIR   WKDDIXG   JOURNKY. 


i 


strictly  to  business,  and  has  turned  mill-wheels  in- 
stead of  fooling  round  water-lilies.  It  can  alTord 
that  ultimate  finery.  What  you  behold  in  the 
Bridal  Veil,  my  love,  is  the  apotheosis  of  industry." 

"  What  I  can't  help  thinking  of,"  said  Isabel, 
who  had  not  paid  the  smallest  attention  to  the  nriihil 
Veil,  or  anything  about  it,  '*  is  the  awfulness  of 
stepping  off  these  places  in  the  night-time."  She 
referred  to  the  road  which,  next  the  p  ;>ice,  is  un- 
guarded by  any  sort  of  parapet.  In  F  <  i  a  strong 
wall  would  secure  it,  but  we  manage  u.  ags  dil^er- 
ently  on  our  continent,  and  carriages  go  ruining 
over  the  brink  from  time  to  time. 

**  If  your  thoughts  have  that  direction,"  answered 
her  husband,  "  we  had  better  go  back  to  the  hotel, 
and  leave  the  Whirlpool  for  to-morrow  morning. 
It 's  late  for  it  to-day,  at  any  rate."  He  had  treated 
Isabel  since  the  adventure  on  the  Three  Sisters  with 
a  superiority  which  he  felt  himself  to  be  very  oaious, 
but  which  he  could  not  disuse. 

'*  I'm  not  afraid,"  she  sighed,  "  but  in  the  words 
of  the  retreating  soldier,   *  I'm  aNvfully  demoral- . 
ized '  ;  "  and  added,  "  You  know  we  must  reserve 
some  of   the  vital   forces  for  shopping   this   even- 
mg. 

Part  of  their  business  also  was  to  buy  the  tickets 
for  their  return  to  Boston  by  way  of  Montreal  and 
Quebec,  and  it  was  part  of  their  pleasure  to  get 
these  of  the  heartiest  imaginable  ticket-agent.  He 
was  a  colonel  or  at  least  a  major,  and  he  made  a 


NIAGARA. 


159 


polite  feint  of  c.alliiij^  Hasil  by  some  military  title. 
He  coinineiuleil  tiie  trip  they  were  about  to  make 
as  the  most  magnificent  and  beautiful  on  the  whole 
rontintMit,  antl  he  commended  them  for  intending  to 
make  it.  He  said  that  was  Mrs.  (General  Hovvd**r 
of  IMiihidelphia  who  just  went  out ;  did  they  know 
her?  Somehow,  the  tith's  affected  Hasil  as  of  older 
date  than  the  late  war,  and  as  belonging  to  the 
militia  period ;  and  he  imagined  for  the  agent  the 
romance  of  a  life  spent  at  a  watering-place,  in 
contact  with  rich  money-spending,  pleasure-taking 
people,  who  formed  his  whole  jovial  world.  The 
C  jlonel,  who  included  them  in  this  world,  and  there- 
by brevetted  them  rich  and  fashionable,  could  not 
secure  a  state-room  for  them  on  the  boat,  —  a  per- 
fectly splendid  Lake  steamer,  which  would  take 
them  down  the  rapids  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  on 
to  Montreal  without  change,  —  but  he  would  give 
them  a  letter  to  the  captain,  who  was  a  very  par- 
ticular friend  of  his,  and  would  be  happy  to  show 
them  as  \\mfrlend9  every  attention ;  and  so  he  wrote 
a  note  ascribing  peculiar  merits  to  Basil,  and  in 
spite  of  all  reason  making  him  feel  for  the  moment 
that  he  was  privileged  by  a  document  which  was  no 
doubt  part  of  every  such  transaction.  He  spoke  in 
a  loud  cheerful  voice  ;  he  laughed  joUily  at  no  appar- 
ent joke ;  he  bowed  very  low  and  said,  "  Good- 
evening  !  "  at  parting,  and  they  went  away  as  if  he 
had  blessed  them. 

The  rest  of  the  evening  they  spent  in  wandering 


160 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


through  the  village,  charmed  with  its  bizarre  mixt- 
ure of  quaintness  and  conimonplaceness ;  in  hanging 
about  the  shop-windows  with  their  monotonous  va- 
riety of  feather  fans,  —  each  with  a  violently  red  or 
yellow  bird  painfully  sacrificed  in  its  centre,  —  moc- 
casons,  bead- wrought  work-bags,  tobacco-pouches, 
bows  and  arrows,  and  whatever  else  the  savage  art 
of  the  neighboring  squaws  can  invent ;  in  saunter- 
ing through  these  gay  booths,  pricing  many  things, 
and  in  hanging  long  and  undecidedly  over  cases  full 
of  feldspar  crosses,  quartz  bracelets  and  necklaces, 
and  every  manner  of  vase,  inoperative  pitcher,  and 
other  vessel  that  can  be  fashioned  out  of  the  geolog- 
ical formations  at  Niagara,  tormented  meantime  by 
the  heat  of  the  gas-lights  and  the  persistence  of  the 
mosquitoes.  There  were  very  few  people  besides 
themselves  in  the  shops,  and  Isabel's  purchases  were 
not  lavish.  Her  husband  had  made  up  his  mind  to 
get  her  some  little  keepsake  ;  and  when  he  liad  taken 
her  to  the  hotel  he  ran  back  to  one  of  the  shops, 
and  hastily  bought  her  a  feather  fan,  —  a  magnifi- 
cent thing  of  deep  magenta  dye  shading  into  blue, 
with  a  whole  yellow-bird  transfixed  in  the  centre. 
When  he  triumphantly  displayed  it  in  their  room, 
*'  Who 's  that  for,  Basil  ?  "  demanded  his  wife  ;  "  the 
cook  ?  "  But  seeing  his  ghastly  I'^ok  at  this,  she 
fell  upon  his  neck,  crying,  "  O  you  poor  old  taste- 
less darling !  You've  got  it  for  we  .' "  and  seemed 
about  to  die  of  laughter. 

"Didn't  you  start  and  throw  up  your  hands," 


NIAGARA. 


161 


he  stammered,   "  when  you  came  to  that  case  of 
fans  ?  " 

"  Yes^  —  in  horror  !  Did  you  think  I  liked  the 
cruel  things,  with  their  dead  birds  and  tlieir  hideous 
colors  ?  O  Basil,  dearest !  You  are  incorrigible. 
Cati't  you  learn  that  magenta  is  the  vilest  of  all  the 
hues  that  the  perverseness  of  man  has  invented  in 
defiance  of  nature  ?  Now,  my  love,  just  promise 
me  one  thnig,"  she  said  pathetically.  '*  We're  go- 
ing to  do  a  little  shopping  in  Montreal,  you  know  ; 
and  perhaps  you'll  be  wanting  to  surprise  me  with 
something  there.  Don't  do  it.  Or  if  you  must,  do 
tell  me  all  about  it  beforehand,  and  what  the  color 
of  it 's  to  be  ;  and  I  can  say  whether  to  get  it  or  not, 
and  then  there'll  be  some  taste  about  it,  and  I  shall 
be  trull/  surprised  and  pleased." 

She  turned  to  put  the  fan  into  her  trunk,  and  he 
murmured  something  about  exchanging  it.  "  No," 
she  said,  '*  we'll  keep  it  as  a  —  a  —  monument." 
And  she  deposed  him,  with  another  peal  of  laughter, 
from  the  proud  height  to  which  he  had  climbed  in 
pity  of  her  nervous  fears  of  the  day.  So  completely 
were  their  j)laces  changed,  that  he  doubted  if  it 
were  nov  he  who  had  made  that  scene  on  the  Third 
Sister  ;  and  when  Isabel  said,  "  O,  why  wont  men 
use  their  reasoning  faculties  ?  "  he  could  not  for 
himself  have  claimed  any,  and  he  could  not  urge 
the  truth  :  that  he  had  bought  the  fan  more  for  its 
barbaric  brightness  than  for  its  beauty.  She  would 
not  let  him  get  angry,  and  he  could  say  nothuig 
11 


162 


TIIKIR   WKDDING  JOURNEY. 


against  the  half-ironical  petting  with  which  she 
Rootlit'd  his  mortification. 

But  all  troubles  passed  with  the  night,  and  the 
next  morning  they  spent  a  charming  hour  about 
Prospect  Point,  and  in  sauntering  over  Goat  Island, 
somewhat  daintily  tasting  the  flavors  of  the  i)lacc 
on  whose  wonders  they  had  so  hungi'ily  and  indis- 
criminately feasted  at  first.  They  had  already  the 
feeling  of  veteran  visitors,  and  they  loftily  mar- 
veled at  the  greed  with  which  newer-comers  plunged 
at  the  sensations.  They  could  not  conceive  why 
people  should  want  to  descend  the  inclined  railway 
to  the  foot  of  the  American  Fall ;  they  smiled  at 
the  idea  of  going  up  Terrapin  Tower  ;  they  deriikMl 
the  vulgar  daring  of  those  who  went  out  uj3on  the 
Three  Weird  Sisters;  for  some  whom  they  saw 
about  to  go  doAvn  the  Biddle  Stairs  to  the  Cave  of 
the  Winds,  they  had  no  words  to  express  their  con- 
tempt. 

Then  they  made  their  excursion  to  the  Whirl- 
pool, mistakenly  going  down  on  the  American  side, 
for  it  is  much  better  seen  from  the  other,  though 
seen  from  any  point  it  is  the  most  impressive  feature 
of  the  whole  prodigious  spectacle  of  Niagara. 

Here  within  the  compass  of  a  mile,  those  inland 
seas  of  the  North,  Superior,  Huron,  Michigan, 
Erie,  and  the  multitude  of  smaller  lakes,  all  pour 
♦their  floods,  where  they  swirl  in  dreadful  vortices, 
with  resistless  under-currents  boiling  beneath  the 
surface  of  that  mighty  eddy.     Abruptly  from  this 


NIAGARA. 


163 


scene  of  secret  power,  so  different  from  the  thun- 
derous splendors  of  the  cataract  itself,  rise  lofty 
cliffs  on  every  side,  to  a  height  of  two  hundred  feet, 
clothed  fi'om  tlie  water's  edge  almost  to  their  crests 
with  dark  cedars.  Noiselessly,  so  far  as  your  senses 
perceive,  the  lakes  steal  out  of  the  whirlpool,  then, 
drunk  and  wild,  with  brawling  rapids  roar  away  to 
Ontario  through  the  narrow  channel  of  the  river. 
Awful  as  the  scene  is,  you  stand  so  far  above  it  that 
you  do  not  know  the  half  of  its  terribleness ;  for 
those  waters  that  look  so  smooth  are  great  ridges 
and  rings,  forced,  by  the  imf)ulse  of  the  currents, 
twelve  feet  higher  in  the  centre  than  at  the  margin. 
Nothing  can  live  there,  and  with  what  is  caught  in 
its  hold,  the  maelstrom  plays  for  days,  and  whirls 
and  tosses  round  and  round  in  its  toils,  with  a  sad, 
maniacal  patience.  The  guides  tell  ghastly  stories, 
which  even  their  telling  dtx's  not  wholly  rob  of 
ghastliness,  about  the  bodies  of  drowned  men  carried 
into  the  whirlpool  and  made  to  enact  upon  its  dizzy 
surges  a  travesty  of  life,  apparently  floating  there 
at  their  pleasure,  diving  and  frolicking  amid  the 
■waves,  or  frantically  struggling  to  escape  from  the 
death  that  has  long  since  befalUm  them. 

On  the  American  side,  not  far  below  the  rail- 
way suspension  bridge,  is  an  elevator  more  than  a 
hundred  and  eighty  feet  high,  which  is  meant  to  let 
people  down  to  the  shore  below,  and  to  give  a  view 
of  the  rapids  on  their  own  level.  From  the  cliff 
opposite,  it  looks  a  terribly  frail  structure  of  pine 


164 


TIIIIU   WKDDIXO   .lOUKNKY. 


slicks,  hut  is  (loubtlcsa 
stronger  tlian  it  looks ; 
and  at  aiiv  rato,  as  it  lias 
iU'VtM"  y«'t  fallen  to  pieces, 
it  may  l>e  pronounced  per- 
fectly safe. 

In  the  waiting-room  at 
the  top,  hasil  and  Isabel 
found  Mr.  Hichard  and  his 
hidies  :i}^ain,  wiio  jjjot  into 
the  movablechanduM*  with 
them,  and  they  all  silently 
descended  toj^ether.  It 
was  not  a  time  for  talk 
of  any  kind,  either  when 
they  were  slowly  and  not 
tpiite  8mo')thly  droppiii}^ 
tii'*ough  the  lugubrious 
upper  part  of  the  strue- 
tui-e,  whore  it  was  dark- 
ened by  a  rough  weather- 
boarding,  or  lower  down, 
where  the  unobstructed 
light  showed  the  grim 
tearful  face  of  the  clifT, 
bed  rabbled  with  oozy 
sjirings,  and  the  audacious 
slightness  of  the  elevator. 
An  abiding  distrust  of  the  machinery  overhead 
mingled  in  Isabel's  heart  with  a  doubt  of  the  value 


NIAOARA. 


165 


of  the  8C(»n«  bt^low,  and  hIjo  could  not  look  forward 
to  escape  from  licr  pn'si'iit  perils  by  the  conveyance 
which  had  brought  h(>r  into  tiu^ni,  with  any  satis- 
faction. She  wanly  sinihtd,  and  shrank  closia'  to 
liasil  ;  while  the  other  matron  nuide  nothing  of 
seizing  her  husbsmd  viohuitly  by  the  arm  an<l  im- 
ploring him  to  stop  it  whenever  they  experienced  a 
rougher  jolt  than  usual. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  clifT  tlu^y  were  lielped  out 
of  their  prison  by  a  humid  young  Knglishman,  with 
much  clay  on  him,  whose  face  was  red  and  batlu^d 
in  perspiration,  for  it  was  very,  hot  down  there  in 
his  little  inclosure  of  baking  pine  boards,  and  it 
was  not  much  cooler  out  on  the  ro(;ks  upon  which  the 
party  issued,  descending  and  descending  by  n^peatiM] 
and  desultory  flights  of  steps,  till  at  last  they  stood 
upon  a  huge  fragment  of  stone;  right  abreast  of  the 
rapids.  Yet  it  was  a  magnificent  sight,  and  for  a 
moment  none  of  tlnMU  w(Te  sorry  to  have  come. 
The  surges  did  not  look  like  the  gigantic  ripples  on 
a  river's  course  as  they  were,  but  like  a  procession 
of  ocean  billows  ;  they  arose  far  aloft  in  vast  bulks 
of  clear  green,  and  broke  heavily  into  foam  at  the 
crest.  Great  blocks  and  shapeless  fragments  of 
rock  strewed  the  margin  of  the  awful  torrent ; 
gloomy  walls  of  dark  stone  rose  naked  from  these, 
bearded  here  and  there  with  cedar,  and  everywhere 
fro\vning  with  shaggy  brows  of  evergreen.  The 
place  is  inexpressibly  Irmely  and  dreadful,  and  one 
feels  like  an  alien  presence  there,  or  as  if  he  had 


166 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


I 
I;  f 


♦  ' 


intruded  upon  some  mood  or  haunt  of  Nature  in 
which  she  hjid  a  right  to  bo  forever  alone.  The 
sligtit,  impudent  structure  of  the  elevator  rises 
through  the  solitude,  like  a  thing  that  merits  ruin, 
yet  it  is  better  than  something  more  elaborate,  for 
it  looks  temporary,  and  since  there  must  be  an  ele- 
vator, it  is  well  to  have  it  of  the  most  transitory 
aspect.  Some  such  quality  of  rude  impermanence 
consoles  you  for  the  presence  of  most  improvements 
by  which  you  enjoy  Niagara ;  the  suspension  bridges 
for  their  part  being  saved  from  offensiveness  by 
their  beauty  and  unreality. 

Ascending,  none  of  the  party  spoke ;  Isabel  and 
the  other  matron  blanched  in  each  other's  faces ; 
their  husbands  maintained  a  stolid  resignation. 
When  they  stepped  out  of  their  trap  into  the  wait- 
ing-room at  the  top,  "  What  I  like  about  these 
little  adventures,"  said  Mr.  Richard  to  Basil,  ab- 
rui)tly,  "  is  getting  safely  out  of  them.  Good-morn- 
ing, sir."  He  bowed  slightly  to  Isabel,  who  re- 
turned his  politeness,  and  exchanged  faint  nods,  or 
glances,  with  the  ladies.  They  got  into  their  sepa- 
rate carriages,  and  at  that  safe  distance  made  each 
other  more  decided  obeisances. 

"  Well,"  observed  Basil,  "  I  suppose  we're  intn?- 
duced  now.  We  shall  be  meeting  them  from  time 
to  time  throughout  our  journey.  You  know  how 
the  same  faces  and  the  same  trunks  used  to  keep 
turning  up  in  our  travels  on  the  other  side.  Once 
meet  people  in  travelling,  and  you  can't  get  rid  of 
them." 


NIAGARA. 


167 


**  Yes,"  said  Isabel,  as  if  continuing  his  train  of 
thouglit,  "  I'm  glad  wo're  going  to-day." 

**  ( )  dearest  I  " 

**  Truly.  When  we  first  arrived  I  felt  (»nly  the 
loveliiu'Ms  of  the  place.  It  seemed  more  familiar, 
too,  then  ;  but  ever  since,  it 's  been  growing 
stranger  and  dreadfuller.  Somehow  it 's  begun  to 
pervade  nu'  and  jxwsess  me  in  a  very  uncomfortable 
■way;  I'm  tossed  upon  rapids,  and  flung  from  cat- 
aract brinks,  and  dizzied  in  whirlpools;  I'm  no 
huiger  yours,  Hasil ;  I'm  most  unhappily  married 
to  Niai^ara.  Flv  with  me,  save  me  from  mv  awful 
lord  !  " 

She  lightly  burlescpied  the  woes  of  a  prima  donna^ 
with  clasped  hands  and  uplifted  eyes. 

**  That'll  do  very  well,"  Basil  commented,  "  and 
it  implies  a  reality  that  can't  be  quite  definitely 
spoken.  We  come  to  Niagara  in  the  patronizing 
spirit  in  which  we  approach  everything  nowadays, 
and  for  a  few  hours  we  have  it  our  own  way,  and 
pay  our  little  tributes  of  admiration  with  as  much 
complacency  as  we  feel  in  acknowledging  the  exist- 
ence of  the  Supreme  Being.  But  after  a  while  we 
are  aware  of  some  potent  influence  undermining  our 
self-satisfaction ;  we  begin  to  conjecture  that  the 
great  cataract  does  not  exist  by  virtue  of  our  ap- 
proval, and  to  feel  that  it  will  not  cease  when  we 
go  away.  The  second  day  makes  us  its  abject 
slaves,  and  on  the  third  we  want  to  fly  from  it  in 
terror.     I  believe  some  people  stay  for  weeks,  how- 


168 


TIIKIR    WKDDING   JOURNEY. 


ever,  and  hordes  of  them  liave  written  odes  to  Niag- 


ara. 

*'  I  can't  understand  it,  at  all,"  said  Isabel.  "  I 
don't  woihUt  now  that  the  town  should  be  so  empty 
this  H(>as()ii,  but  that  it  should  ever  be  full.  I  wish 
we'd  j^one  after  our  first  look  at  the  Falls  from 
the  HUHpeusion  brid<^e.  How  b(>autiful  that  was! 
I  rejoice  in  everything  that  I  haven't  done.  I'm 
BO  glad  I  haven  t  been  in  the  Cave  of  the  Winds ; 
I'm  so  happy  that  Table  Koek  fell  twenty  years 
ago !  liasil,  I  couldn't  stand  another  rainbow  to- 
day. I'm  sorry  we  went  out  on  the  Three  Weird 
Sisters.  O,  I  shall  dream  about  it!  and  the  rush, 
and  the  whirl,  and  the  dampness  in  one's  face,  and 
the  everlasting  chir-r-r-r-r  of  everything  !  " 

She  dipped  suddenly  upon  his  shoulder  for  a  mo- 
ment's oblivion,  and  then  rose  radiant  with  a  ques- 
tion :  **  Why  in  the  world,  if  Niagara  is  really  what 
it  seems  to  us  now,  do  so  many  bridal  parties  come 
here  ?  " 

**  Perhaps  they're  the  only  people  who've  the 
strength  to  bear  up  against  it,  and  are  not  easily 
dispersed  and  subjected  by  it." 

"  \U\t  /t'f're  dispersed  and  subjected." 

"Ah,  my  dear,  we  married,  a  little  late.  Who 
knows  how  it  would  be  if  you  were  nineteen  instead 
of  twenty-seven,  and  I  twenty-five  and  not  turned 
of  thirty?" 

"  liasil,  you're  very  cruel.'* 

**  No,  no.     Hut  don't  vou  see  how  it  is  ?    We've 


NIAGARA. 


1G9 


.  known  too  much  of  life  to  dosire  any  gloomy  l»ack- 
ground  for  our  liappint'ss.  We're  quite  contented 
to  have  things  gay  and  bright  abont  us.  Onet;  we 
couldn't  have  made  the  circle  dark  enougli.  Well, 
my  dear,  that  'a  the  ellect  of  age.  We're  superan- 
nuated." 

*'  I  used  to  think  /was  before  we  were  married," 
answered  Isabel  simply  ;  '*  but  now,"  she  added 
trium|Hiantly,  "  I'm  rescued  from  all  that.  I  shall 
never  be  oUl  again,  dearest ;  never,  as  long  as  you 
—  U)ve  me  I  " 

They  were  about  to  enter  the  village,  and  he 
could  not  make  any  open  acknowledgment  of  her 
tenderness;  but  her  silken  mantle  (or  whatever) 
slipped  from  her  shoulder,  and  he  embra<'ingly  re- 
placed it,  flattering  himself  that  he  had  delicately 
seized  this  chance  of  an  unavowed  caress  and  not 
knowing  (()  such  is  the  blindness  of  our  sex  I)  that 
the  op])ortunity  had  been  yet  more  subtly  afFordiid 
him,  with  the  art  which  women  never  disuse  in  this 
world,  and  which  I  hope  they  will  not  forget  in  the 
next. 

They  had  an  early  dinner,  and  looked  their  hist 
upon  the  nuptial  gayety  of  the  otherwise  forlorn 
hotel.  Three  brides  sat  down  with  them  in  travel- 
ling-dress ;  two  occupied  the  parlor  as  they  j)assed 
out ;  half  a  dozen  happy  pairs  arrived  (to  the 
music  of  the  band)  in  the  omnibus  that  was  to 
carry  our  friends  back  to  the  station  ;  they  caught 
sight  of  several  about  the  shop  windows,  as  they 


170 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


drove  through  the  streets.  Thus  the  place  perpet- , 
ually  renews  itself  in  ihe  glow  of  love  as  long  as 
the  summer  lasts.  The  moon  which  is  elsewhere 
00  often  of  wormwood,  or  of  tlie  ordinary  green 
cheese  at  the  best,  is  of  lucent  honey  there  from 
the  first  of  June  to  the  last  of  October  ;  and  this  is 
a  great  charm  in  Niagara.  I  think  with  tender- 
ness of  all  the  lives  that  have  opened  so  fairly 
there ;  the  hopes  tiiat  have  reigned  in  tlie  glad 
young  hearts ;  the  measureless  tide  of  joy  that  ebbs 
and  liow^  with  the  arriving  and  departing  trains. 
Elsewhere  thore  are  carking  <;ires  of  business  and 
of  fashion,  there  are  age,  ami  sorrow,  and  heart- 
break :  but  here  only  3  >uth,  faith,  rapture.  I  kiss 
my  hand  to  Niagara  for  that  reason,  and  would  I 
were  a  poet  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 

Isabel  departed  in  almost  a  forgiving  mood  to- 
wa.,.:  the  weak  sisterhood  of  evident  brides,  anc 
both  our  friends  felt  a  lurking  fondness  for  Nin.gara 
at  the  last  moment.  I  do  not  know  how  much  of 
their  content  was  due  to  the  face  that  they  had 
suffered  no  sort  of  ^vl•ong  there,  from  those  who  are 
apt  to  prey  upon  travellers.  In  the  hotel  a  placard 
warned  them  to  have  noth'is'  to  do  with  the  mis- 
creant  hackmen  on  the  streets,  but  always  to  order 
their  carriage  at  the  office  ;  on  the  street  the  hack- 
men  whispered  to  t'^en?  not  to  trust  the  exorbitant 
drivers  in  league  with  the  landlords ;  yet  their 
acti  ul  experience  was  great  reasonableness  and 
facile    contentment   with    the   sum   agreed   upon. 


NIAGARA. 


171 


This  may  have  been  because  the  hackmen  so  far 
outnumbered  the  visitors,  that  the  hitter  could  dic- 
tate terms  ;  but  tliey  chose  to  beUeve  it  a  triumph 
of  civilization ;  and  I  will  never  be  the  cynic  to 
sneer  at  their  faith.  Only  at  tlie  station  was  the 
virtue  of  the  Niagarans  put  in  doubt,  by  the  hotel 
porter  who  professed  to  find  Basil's  trunk  enfeebled 
by  travel,  aiul  advised  a  strap  for  it,  which  a  friend 
of  his  would  sell  for  a  dollar  and  a  half.  Vet  even 
he  may  have  been  a  benevolent  nature  unjustly 
suspected. 


VII. 


DOWN   TIIK   ST.    LAWRENCE. 


?>''> 


They  wore 
to  tjikc  the 
Caiuidian 
ateanu'i'  at 
^  Charlotte, 
the  port  of 
Kocliester, 

.^     ,,_ -  and  they 

'='  ;._:  ;i-r-  -''  mttU'd  un- 
eventfully down  from  Niagara  by  rail.  At  the 
broad,  low-banked  river-mouth  the  steamer  lay 
beside  the  railroad  station  ;  and  while  Isabel  dis- 
posed oi  iierself  on  board,  Basil  looked  to  the  trans- 
fer of  the  baggage,  novelly  comf(.  t*d  i"  t..  business 
by  the  respectfulness  of  the  young  Cruadi:'  wVo 
took  charge  of  the  trunks  for  the  boat,  ^'e  was 
slow,  and  his  system  was  not  good,  —  he  did  not 
give  checks  f(»r  the  pieces,  but  marked  them  with 
the  'A-ime  of  their  destination  ;  and  there  was  that 
indefinable  sonu'thing  in  his  nuiimer  which  hinted 
lus  hope  that  you  would  nMnember  the  porter  ;  but 
he  was  so  civil  that  he  did  not  snub  the  meekest 
and  mos!:  vexr^ious  of   the  passengers,  and    Basil 


DOWN   THE  ST.    LAWRpINCE. 


173 


mutely  blessed  his  servile  soul.  Few  white  AiutM- 
ioans,  he  said  to  himself,  would  behave  so  decently 
in  his  place ;  and  he  could  not  conceive  of  the 
American  steamboat  clerk  who  would  use  the 
politeness  towards  a  waiting  crowd  that  the  Cana- 
dian purser  showed  when  they  all  winlged  them- 
selves in  about  his  window  to  receive  their  state- 
room keys.  He  was  somewhat  awkward,  like  the 
poster,  but  he  was  patient,  and  he  did  not  lose  his 
temper  even  when  some  of  the  crowd,  finding  he 
would  not  bully  them,  made  bold  to  bully  him. 
Fie  was  three  times  as  long  in  serving  them  as  an 
American  would  have  been,  but  their  time  was  of 
ao  value  there,  and  he  served  them  well.  Hasil 
nuide  a  point  of  speaking  him  fair,  when  his  turn 
came,  and  the  purser  did  not  trample  on  him  for  a 
base  truckler,  as  an  American  jack-in-otiice  would 
have  done. 

Our  tourists  felt  at  home  directlv  on  this  steanuM*. 
which  was  very  comfortabU»,  and  in  every  way  suf- 
ficient for  its  pur])ose,  with  a  visible  captain,  who 
answered  two  or  three  questions  very  i)leasantly, 
and  bore  himself  towards  his  passengers  in  some 
sort  like  a  host. 

In  the  saloon  Isabel  hatl  found  among  the  pas- 
sengers her  .siMui-accpiainlances  of  the  hotel  pa:  'or 
and  the  Kapiils-dcvator,  and  had  glanced  tenta- 
tively towards  them.  Whereupon  the  matron  of 
the  party  had  made  ailvances  tiuit  ended  In  their 
all  sitting  down  together,  and  w^ondering  when  the 


174 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


boat  would  start,  and  what  time  they  would  get  to 
Montreal  next  evening,  with  other  matters  that 
strangers  going  upon  the  same  journey  may  prop- 
erly marvel  over  in  company.  The  introduction 
having  thus  accomplished  itself,  they  exchanged  ad- 
dresses, and  it  appeared  that  Richard  was  Colonel 
Ellison,  of  Milwaukee,  and  that  Fanny  was  his 
wife.  Miss  Kitty  Ellison  was  of  Western  New 
York,  not  far  from  Erie.  There  was  a  diversion 
presently  towards  the  different  state-rooms  ;  but 
the  new  acquaintances  sat  vis-d-vis  at  tlie  table, 
and  after  8uj)per  the  ladies  drew  tlieir  chairs  to- 
gether on  the  promenade  deck,  and  enjoyed  the 
fresh  evening  breeze.  The  sun  set  nuignificent 
upon  the  low  western  shore  which  they  luid  now 
left  an  hour  away,  and  a  broad  stripe  of  color 
stretched  behind  the  steamer.  A  few  thin,  lumi- 
nous clouds  darkened  momently  along  the  horizon, 
and  then  mixed  with  the  land.  The  stars  came  out 
in  a  clear  sky,  and  a  light  wind  softly  buffeted  the 
cheeks,  and  breathed  life  into  nerv.'S  that  the  day's 
heat  had  wasted.  It  scarcely  wrinkled  the  tran- 
quil expanse  of  the  lake,  on  which  loomed,  far  or 
near,  a  full-sailed  schooner,  and  presently  melted 
into  the  twilight,  and  left  the  steamer  solitary  upon 
the  waters.  The  company  was  smiill,  and  not  re- 
markable enough  in  any  way  to  take  the  thoughts 
of  any  one  off  his  own  comfort.  A  deep  sense  of 
the  coziness  of  the  situation  possessed  them  all, 
which  was  if  possible  intensified  by  tlie  spectacle 


DOWN  THE  ST.   LAWRENCE. 


175 


of  the  captain,  seated  on  the  upper  deck,  and  smok- 
ing a  cigar  that  flashed  and  fainted  like  a  station- 
ary fire-fly  in  the  gathering  dusk.  How  very 
distant,  in  this  mood,  were  tlie  most  recent  events  I 
Niagara  seemed  a  fable  of  antiquity  ;  the  ride  from 
Rochester  a  myth  of  the  Middle  Ages.  In  this 
cool,  hajipy  world  of  quiet  lake,  of  starry  skies,  of 
air  that  the  soul  itself  seemed  to  breathe,  there  was 
such  consciousness  of  repose  as  if  one  W(u-e  steeped 
in  rt^st  and  soaked  through  and  through  with  calm. 

The  points  of  likeness  between  Isabel  and  Mrs. 
Ellison  shortly  made  them  mutually  uninteresting, 
and,  leaving  her  husband  to  the  others,  Isabel 
frankly  sought  the  companionship  of  Miss  Kitty,  in 
whom  she  found  a  charm  of  manner  which  puz/.led 
at  first,  but  which  she  presently  fancied  must  be 
perfect  trust  of  others  mingling  with  a  peculiar 
self-reliance. 

*'  Can't  you  see,  Basil,  what  a  very  flattering 
way  it  is  ?  "  she  asked  of  her  husband,  when,  after 
parting  with  their  friends  for  the  night,  she  tried 
to  explain  the  character  to  him.  *M)f  course  no 
art  could  equal  such  a  natural  gift ;  for  that  kind 
of  belief  in  your  good-natun»  and  sympathy  nuikes 
you  feel  worthy  of  it,  don't  you  know  ;  and  so  you 
can't  lu'ip  being  ^ood-natured  and  sympathetic. 
Tliis  Miss  Ellis(Mi,  wliy,  I  can  tell  you,  I  siiouldn't 
be  ashamed  of  her  anywhere."  By  anywhere  Ir,a- 
bel  meant  Boston,  and  she  went  on  to  praise  the 
young    lady's    intelligence   and    refinement,    with 


176 


THEIR   WKDDING  JOURNEr. 


those  expressions  of  surprise  at  the  existence  of 
civilization  in  a  westerner  which  westerners  find  it 
80  hard  to  receive  graiiiously.  Happily,  Miss  Elli- 
sor  had  not  to  hear  thu'in.  "  The  reason  she  hap- 
pened to  come  with  only  two  dresses  is,  she  lives 
so  near  Niagara  that  slie  could  come  for  one  day, 
and  go  back  the  naxt.  The  colonel 's  her  cousin, 
aiiJ  he  anil  his  wife  g  >  East  every  year,  and  they 
asked  her  this  timi  to  see  Niagara  with  them. 
She  told  me  all  ovim*  again  wliat  we  eavesdropped 
so  shamefully  in  the  hotel  j)arlor ;  and  I  don't 
know  whether  slie  was  bettcu*  pleased  with  the 
prospect  of  what 's  before  her,  or  with  the  notion 
of  making  the  journey  in  this  original  way.  She 
didn't  force  her  confidence  upon  me,  any  more 
than  she  tried  to  withhold  it.  We  got  to  talking 
in  the  most  natural  manner ;  and  she  seemed  to 
tell  these  thin;L's  about  lu'rself  because  they  amused 
her  and  she  liked  me.  I  had  b  'cn  saying  how  my 
trunk  got  left  beliind  once  on  the  French  side  of 
Mont  Cenis,  and  I  had  to  wear  aunt's  things  at 
Turin  till  it  could  be  sent  for." 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  but  Miss  Ellison  could  de- 
scribe you  to  her  friemls  very  niu(;h  as  you've 
descrilu'd  her  to  me,"  said  Basil.  "  How  (li«l  these 
mutual  confidences  begin  ?  Whose  trustfulness  first 
lliittered  the  other's  ?  What  else  did  you  tell  about 
yourself  ?  " 

'•''  1  said  we  were  on  our  wedding  journey," 
guiltily  aduiittwl  Isabel. 


DOWN  THE   ST.   LAM'RENCE. 


177 


"  O,  vou  did  !  " 

"  Why,  dearest !  I  wanted  to  know,  for  once, 
you  see,  wh<^ther  we   seemed   honeymoon-struck." 

'*  And  do  we  ?  " 

"  No,"  came  the  answer,  somewhat  ru(\/ully. 
**  Perhaps,  Basil,"  she  added,  "  we've  been  a  little 
toe  successful  in  disjjuisinjj  our  bridal  character. 
Do  you  know,"  she  continued,  looking  him  anx- 
iously in  the  face,  ^^  this  Miss  Ellison  took  me  at 
first  for  —  your  sister  !  " 

Basil  broke  forth  in  outrageous  laughter.  "  One 
more  such  victory,"  he  said,  ''and  we  are  undone  ; " 
and  he  laughed  again  immoderately.  **  How  sad 
is  the  fruition  of  human  wishes  !  There  's  nothing, 
after  all,  like  a  good  thorough  failure  for  making 
people  happy." 

Isabel  did  not  listen  to  him.  Safe  in  a  dim 
corner  of  the  deserted  saloon,  she  seized  him  in  a 
vindictive  embrace  ;  then,  as  if  it  had  been  he  who 
suggested  tlie  idea  of  such  a  loathsome  rehition, 
hissetl  out  the  hated  words,  **  Your  sister !  "  and 
releaiwd  him  with  a  disdainful  repulse. 

A  littit'  after  daybreak  the  steamer  stopped  at 
the  Canadian  city  of  Kingnton,  a  handsome  phiee, 
substantial  to  tlie  water's  edge,  and  giving  a  sense 
of  Euglisli  solidity  by  the  stone  of  which  it  is 
largely  built.  There  was  an  accession  of  many 
passengers  here,  and  they  and  the  peo|))e  on  the 
wharf  were  as  little  like  Americans  as  possible. 
Thev  were  Enijlish  or  Irish   or   Scotch,  with   the 

1-2 


I 


178 


THF.IR  WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


healthful  bloom  of  the  Old  World  still  upon  their 
fiu'os,  or  if  Canadians  they  looked  not  less  hearty ; 
8o  that  one  must  wonder  if  the  line  between  the  Do- 
minion and  the  Unit<Hl  States  did  not  also  sharply 
separate  good  digestion  and  dyspepsia.  These  pro- 
vincials had  not  our  regularity  of  features,  nor  the 
best  of  them  our  careworn  sensibility  of  expression  ; 
but  n»;itlier  had  they  our  complexions  of  adulte ; 
and  even  Isabel  was  forced  to  allow  that  the  men 
were,  on  the  whole,  better  dressed  than  the  same 
number  of  average  Americans  would  have  been  in 
a  city  of  that  size  and  remoteness.  The  stevedores 
who  were  |)utting  the  freight  aboard  were  men  of 
leisure ;  they  joined  in  a  kintlly  way  with  the  orange- 
women  and  the  old  women  picking  up  chips  on  the 
pier  ;  and  our  lan<l  of  hurry  seemed  beyond  the 
ocean  rather  than  beyond  the  lake. 

Kingston  hsis  romantic  memories  of  being  Fort 
Frontenac  two  hundred  years  ago  ;  of  Count  Fron- 
tenac's  splendid  advent  among  the  Indians  ;  of  the 
brave  La  Salle,  who  turned  its  wooden  walls  to 
stone  ;  of  wars  with  the  savages  and  then  with  the 
New  York  colonists,  whom  the  French  and  their 
allies  harried  from  this  point ;  of  the  destructitm 
of  La  Salle's  fort  in  the  Old  I'rench  War  ;  and  of 
final  surrender  a  few  years  later  to  the  English.  It 
is  iis  picturescjue  as  it  is  historical.  All  about  the 
city  the  shores  are  beautifully  wooded,  and  there 
are  many  lovely  islands,  —  the  first  indeed  of  those 
Thousand  Islands  ^vith  which  the  head  of  the  St. 


DOWN   THE  ST.    LAWRENCE. 


179 


Lawrence  in  filled,  and  among  which  the  steamer 
was  presently  threading  her  way.  They  are  still  as 
cliarming  and  still  almost  as  wild  as  when,  in  1673, 
Frontenac's  flotilla  of  canoes  passed  through  their 
Iab}rinth  and  issued  upon  the  lake.  Save  for  a 
light-house  upon  one  of  them,  there  is  almost  noth- 
ing to  show  that  the  foot  of  man  has  ever  pressed 
the  thin  grass  clinging  to  their  rocky  surfaces,  and 
keeping  its  green  in  the  eternal  shadow  of  their 
pines  and  cedars.     In  the  warm  morning  light  they 

■~-7'    9- 


gathered  or  dispersed  before  the  advancing  vessel, 
which  some  of  them  almost  toiuihed  with  tiie  plum- 
age of  their  evergreens ;  and  wliere  nf)ne  of  them 
were  large,  some  were  so  snuill  that  it  would  not 
have  been  too  boKl  to  figure  them  as  a  vaster  race 
of  water-birds  assembling  and  separating  in  her 
course.  It  is  curiously  affecting  to  find  them  so  un- 
claimed yet  from  the  solitude  of  the  vanished  wil- 
derness, and  scarcely  touched  even  by  tradition. 
But  for  the  interest  left  them  by  the  French,  these 


180 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


tiny  islands  have  scarcely  any  associations,  and 
uuiHt  be  enjoyed  for  their  beauty  alone.  There  is 
indeed  about  them  a  faint  light  of  legend  concern- 
ing the  Canadian  rebellion  of  1887,  for  several 
patriots  are  said  to  have  taken  refuge  amidst  their 
lovely  multitude ;  but  this  episode  of  modern  his- 
tory is  diHicult  for  the  inuiginati(m  to  manage,  and 
somehow  one  does  not  take  sentimentally  even  to 
that  daughter  of  a  lurking  patriot,  who  long  bailled 
her  father's  pursuers  by  rowing  him  from  one  island 
to  another,  and  supplying  him  with  food  by  night. 

Either  the  reluctance  is  from  the  natural  desire 
that  so  recent  a  heroine  should  be  founded  on  fact, 
or  it  is  mere  perverseness.  Perhaps  I  ought  to 
say,  in  justice  to  her,  that  it  was  one  of  her  own 
sex  who  refused  to  be  interested  in  her,  and  forbade 
Htusil  to  care  for  her.  When  he  had  read  of  her 
exploit  from  the  guide-book,  Isjibel  asked  him  if  he 
had  noticed  that  handsome  girl  in  the  blue  and 
white  striped  Garibaldi  and  Swiss  hat,  who  had 
come  aboard  at  Kingston.  She  pointed  her  out, 
and  courageously  made  him  admire  her  beauty, 
which  was  of  the  most  bewitching  Caiuidian  type. 
The  young  girl  was  redeemed  by  her  New  World 
birth  from  the  English  heaviness  ;  a  more  delicate 
bloom  lighted  her  cheeks  ;  a  softer  grace  dwelt  in 
her  movement;  yet  she  was  round  and  full,  and 
she  was  in  the  perfect  flower  of  youth.  She  was 
not  so  ethereal  in  her  loveliness  as  an  American 
girl,  but  she  was  not  so  nervous  and  had  none  ol 


. 


DOWN  THK  ST.   LAWRENCE. 


181 


the  painful  fragility  of  the  latter.  Her  expression 
was  just  a  little  vacant,  it  must  be  owned  ;  but  so 
far  as  she  went  she  was  faultless.     She  looked  like 


tl  e  m  >st  tractable  of  daughters,  and  as  if  she  would 
be  the  most  obedient  of  wives.  She  had  a  blame- 
less taste  in  dress,  Isabel  declared ;  her  costume  of 
blue   and  white  8tri])ed   Garibaldi  and  Swiss  hat 


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182 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


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(set  upon  heavy  masses  of  daik  brown  hair)  being 
completed  by  a  black  silk  skirt.  "  And  you  can 
see,"  she  added,  "  that  it 's  an  old  skirt  made  over, 
and  that  she  's  dressed  as  cheaply  as  she  is  pret- 
tily." This  surprised  Basil,  who  had  imputed  the 
young  lady's  personal  sumptuousness  to  her  dress, 
and  had  thought  it  enormously  rich.  When  she 
got  off  with  her  chaperone  at  one  of  the  poorest- 
looking  country  landings,  she  left  them  in  hopeless 
conjecture  about  her.  Was  she  visiting  there,  or 
was  the  interior  of  Canada  full  of  such  stylish  and 
exquisite  creatures  ?  Where  did  she  get  her  taste, 
her  fashions,  her  manners?  As  she  passed  from 
sight  towards  the  shadow  of  the  woods,  they  felt 
the  poorer  for  her  going ;  yet  they  were  glad  to 
have  seen  her,  and  on  second  thoughts  they  felt 
that  they  could  not  justly  ask  more  of  her  than  to 
have  merely  existed  for  a  few  hours  in  their  pres- 
ence. They  perceived  that  beauty  was  not  only 
its  own  excuse  for  being,  but  that  it  flattered  and 
favored  and  profited  the  world  by  consenting  to  be. 
At  Prescott,  the  boat  on  which  they  had  come 
from  Charlotte,  and  on  which  they  had  been  prom- 
ised a  passage  without  change  to  Montreal,  stopped, 
and  they  were  transferred  to  a  smaller  steamer 
with  the  uncomfortable  name  of  Banshee.  She 
was  very  old,  and  very  infirm  and  dirty,  and  in 
every  way  bore  out  the  character  of  a  squalid  Irish 
goblin.  Besides,  she  was  already  heavily  laden 
with  passengers,  and,  with  the  addition  of  the 


DOWN   THE   ST.    LAWRENCE. 


183 


J 


other  steamer's  people  hatl  now  double  her  comple- 
ment ;  and  our  friends  doubted  if  they  were  not  to 
pass  the  Rapids  in  as  much  danger  as  discomfort. 
Their  fellow-passengers  were  in  great  variety,  how- 
ever, and  thus  partly  atoned  for  their  numbers. 
Among  them  of  course  there  was  a  full  force  of 
brides  from  Niagara  and  elsewhere,  and  some  curi- 
ous forms  of  the  prevailing  infatuation  appeared. 
It  is  well  enough,  if  she  likes,  and  it  may  even  be 
very  noble  for  a  passably  good-looking  young  lady 
to  marry  a  gentleman  of  venerable  age  ;  but  to 
in'ensify  the  idea  of  self-devotion  by  furtively  ca- 
ressing his  wrink?3d  front  seems  too  reproachful 
of  the  general  public ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
if  the  bride  is  very  young  and  pretty,  it  enlists  in 
behalf  of  the  white-haired  husband  the  unwilling 
sympathies  of  the  spectator  to  see  her  the  centre  of 
a  group  of  young  people,  and  him  only  acknowl- 
edged from  time  to  time  by  a  Parthian  snub. 
Nothing,  however,  could  have  been  more  satisfac- 
tory than  the  sisterly  surrounding  of  this  latter 
bride.  They  \vere  of  a  better  class  of  Irish  people ; 
and  if  it  had  been  any  sacrifice  for  her  to  marry  so 
old  a  man,  they  were  doing  their  best  to  give  the 
affair  at  least  the  liveliness  of  a  wake.  There 
were  five  or  six  of  those  great  handsome  girls,  with 
their  generous  curves  and  wholesome  colors,  and 
they  were  every  one  attended  by  a  good-looking 
colonial  lover,  with  whom  they  joked  in  slightly 
brogued   voices,  and    laughed  with  careless  Celtic 


\ 


184 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


laughter.  One  of  the  young  fellows  presently  lost 
his  hat  overboard,  and  had  to  wear  the  handker- 
chief of  his  lady  about  his  head ;  and  this  appeared 
to  be  really  one  of  the  best  things  in  the  world,  and 
led  to  endless  banter.  They  were  well  dressed, 
and  it  cjuld  be  imagined  that  the  ancient  bride- 
groom had  come  in  for  the  support  of  the  whole 
good-looking,  healthy,  light-hearted  family.  In 
some  degree  he  looked  it,  and  wore  but  a  rueful 
countenance  for  a  bridegroom  ;  so  that  a  vcy  young 
newly  married  couple,  who  sat  next  the  jolly  sister- 
and-loverhood  could  not  keep  their  pitying  eyes  off 
his  downcast  face.  "  What  if  he,  too,  were  young 
at  heart  !  "  the  kind  little  wife's  regard  seemed  to 
say. 

For  the  sake  of  the  slight  air  that  was  stirring, 
and  to  have  the  best  view  of  the  Rapids,  the  Ban- 
shee's whole  company  was  gathered  upon  the  for- 
ward promenade,  and  the  throng  was  almost  as 
dense  as  in  a  six-o'clock  horse-car  out  from  Boston. 
The  standing  and  sitting  groups  were  closely  packed 
together,  and  the  expanded  parasols  and  umbrellas 
formed  a  nearly  unbroken  roof.  Under  this  Isabel 
chatted  at  intervals  with  the  Ellisons,  who  sat  near  ; 
but  it  was  not  an  atmosphere  that  provoked  social 
feeling,  and  she  was  secretly  glad  when  after  a 
while  they  shifted  their  position. 

It  was  deadly  hot,  and  most  of  the  people  sad- 
dened and  silenced  in  the  heat.  From  time  to  time 
the  clouds  idling  about  overhead  met  and  sprinkled 


'■• 


■ 


DOWN  THE  ST.   LAWRENCE. 


185 


' 


down  a  cruel  little  shower  of  rain  that  seemed  to 
make  the  air  less  breathable  than  before.  The 
lonely  shores  were  yellow  with  drought ;  the  islands 
grew  wilder  and  barrener  ;  the  d^ourse  of  the  river 
was  for  miles  at  a  stretch  through  country  which 
gave  no  signs  of  human  life.  The  St.  Lawrence 
has  none  of  the  bold  picturesqueness of  the  Hudson, 
and  is  far  more  like  its  far-olf  cousin  the  Mississippi. 
Its  banks  are  low  like  the  Mississippi's,  its  current 
swift,  its  way  through  solit:iry  lands.  The  same 
sentiment  of  early  adventure  hangs  about  each : 
both  are  haunted  by  visions  of  the  Jesuit  in  his 
priestly  robe,  and  the  soldier  in  his  mediueval  steel ; 
the  same  gay,  devout,  and  dauntless  race  has 
touched  them  both  with  immortal  romance.  If 
the  water  were  of  a  dusky  golden  color,  instead  of 
translucent  green,  and  the  shores  and  islands  were 
covered  with  cottonwoods  and  willows  instead  of 
dark  cedars,  one  could  with  no  great  effort  believe 
one's  self  on  the  Mississippi  between  Cairo  and  St. 
Louis,  so  much  do  the  great  rivers  strike  one  as 
kindred  in  the  chief  features  of  their  landscape. 
Only,  in  tracing  this  resemblance  you  do  not  know 
just  what  to  do  with  the  purple  mountains  of  Ver- 
mont, seen  vague  against  the  horizon  from  the  St. 
Lawrence,  or  with  the  quaint  little  French  villages 
that  begin  to  show  themselves  as  you  penetrate  far- 
ther down  into  Lower  Canada.  These  look  so 
peaceful,  with  their  dormer-windowed  cottages  clus- 
tering about  their  church-spires,  that  it  seems  im- 


: 


186 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


I 


possible  they  could  once  have  been  the  homes  of  the 
savages  and  the  cruel  peasants  who,  with  fire-brand 
and  scalping-knife  and  tomahawk,  harassed  the 
borders  of  New  England  for  a  hundred  years. 
But  just  after  you  descend  the  Long  Sault  you  pass 
the  hamlet  of  St.  Regis,  in  which  was  kindled  the 
torch  that  wrapt  Deerfield  in  flames,  waking  her 
people  from  their  sleep  to  meet  instant  death  or 
taste  the  bitterness  of  a  captivity.  The  bell  which 
was  sent  out  from  France  for  the  Indian  converts  of 
the  Jesuits,  and  was  captured  by  an  English  ship 
and  carried  into  Salem,  and  thence  sold  to  Deerfield, 
where  it  called  the  Puritans  to  prayer,  till  at  last  it 
also  summoned  the  priest-led  Indians  and  habitans 
across  hundreds  of  miles  of  winter  and  of  wilderness 
to  reclaim  it  from  that  desecration,  —  this  fateful 
bell  still  hangs  in  the  church-tower  of  St.  Regis, 
and  has  invited  to  matins  and  vespers  for  nearly 
two  centuries  the  children  of  those  who  fought  so 
pitilessly  and  dared  and  endured  so  much  for  it. 
Our  friends  would  fain  have  heard  it  as  they  passed, 
hoping  for  some  mournful  note  of  history  in  its 
sound ;  but  it  hung  silent  over  the  silent  hamlet, 
which,  as  it  lay  in  the  hot  afternoon  sun  by  the 
river's  side,  seemed  as  lifeless  as  the  Deerfield  burnt 
long  ago. 

They  turned  from  it  to  look  at  a  gentleman  who 
had  just  appeared  in  a  mustard-colored  linen  duster, 
and  Basil  asked,  "  Shouldn't  you  like  to  know  the 
origin,  personal  history,  and  secret  feelings  of  a 


/ 


DOWN   THE  ST.    LAWRENCE. 


187 


■ 


gentleman  who  goes  about  in  a  duster  of  that  par- 
ticular tint?  Or,  that  gentleman  yonder  with  is 
eye  tied  up  in  a  wet  handkerchief,  do  you  suppose 
he  's  travelling  for  pleasure  ?  Loxjk  at  those  young 
people  from  Omaha :  they  haven't  ceased  flirting 
or  cackling  since  we  left  Kingston.  Do  you  think 
everybody  has  such  spirits  out  at  Omaha  ?  But 
behold  a  yet  more  surprising  figure  than  any  we 
have  yet  seen  among  this  boat-load  of  nonde- 
scripts ! " 

This  was  a  tall,  handsome  young  man,  with  a 
face  of  somewhat  foreign  cast,  and  well  dressed, 
with  a  certain  impressive  difference  from  the  rest 
in  the  cut  of  his  clothes.  But  what  most  drew  the 
eye  to  him  was  a  large  cross,  set  with  brilliants, 
and  surmounted  by  a  heavy  double-headed  eagle  in 
gold.  This  ornam'^nt  dazzled  from  a  conspicuous 
place  on  the  left  lappel  of  his  coat ;  on  his  hand 
shone  a  magnificent  diamond  ring,  and  he  bore  a 
stately  opera-glass,  with  which,  from  time  to  time, 
he  imperiously,  as  one  may  say,  surveyed  the  land- 
scape. As  the  imposing  apparition  grew  upon  Isa- 
bel, "  O  here,"  she  thought,  "  is  something  truly 
distinguished.  Of  course,  dear,"  she  added  aloud 
to  Basil,  "  he 's  some  foreign  nobleman  travelling 
here  "  ;  and  she  ran  over  in  her  mind  the  newspa- 
per announcements  of  patrician  visitors  from  abroad 
and  tried  to  identify  him  with  some  one  of  them. 
The  cross  must  be  the  decoration  of  a  foreign  order, 
and  Basil  suggested  that  he  was  perhaps  a  member 


r 


188 


THKIR   WKDDING   JOURNEY. 


of  some  legation  at  Wasliington,  who  luul  run  up 
there  for  his  suininer  vacation.  The  cross  puzzled 
him,  but  the  double-headed  eagle,  he  said,  meant 
either  Austria  or  Russia  ;  probably  Austria,  for  the 
wearer  looked  a  trifle  too  civilized  for  a  Russian. 

'*  Ves,  indeed !  What  an  'ur  he  has.  Never  tell 
me^  Rasil,  that  there  's  nothing  in  blood !  "  cried 
Isabel,  who  was  a  bitter  aristocrat  at  heart,  like  all 
her  sex,  though  in  principle  she  was  democratic 
enough.  As  she  spoke,  the  object  of  her  regard 
looked  about  him  on  the  different  groups,  not  with 
pride,  not  with  hauteur,  but  with  a  glance  of  uncon- 
scious, unmistakable  superiority.  '*  O,  that  stare  !  " 
she  added  ;  nothing  but  high  birth  and  long  descent 
can  give  it !  Dearest,  he  's  becoming  a  great  afflic- 
tion to  me.  I  want  to  know  who  he  is.  Couldn't 
ycu  invent  some  pretext  for  speaking  to  him  ?  " 

*'  No,  I  couldn't  do  it  decently  ;  and  no  doubt 
he'd  snub  me  as  I  deserved  if  I  intruded  upon  him. 
Let 's  wait  for  fortune  to  reveal  him." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  I  must,  but  it 's  dreadful ;  it 's 
really  dreadful.  You  can  easily  see  that 's  distinc- 
tion," she  continued,  as  her  hero  moved  about  the 
promenade  and  gently  but  loftily  made  a  way  for 
himself  among  the  other  passengers  and  favored 
the  scenery  through  his  opera-glass  from  one  point 
and  another.  He  spoke  to  no  one,  and  she  reason- 
ably supposed  that  he  did  not  know  English. 

In  the  mean  time  it  was  drawing  near  the  hour 
of  dinner,  but  no  dinner  appeared.     Twelve,  one, 


DOWN   THE   ST.    LAWRENCE. 


189 


two  came  and  went,  and  then  at  last  came  the  din- 
ner, which  had  been  delayed,  it  seemed,  till  the 
cook  could  recruit  his  energies  sufficiently  to  meet 
the  wants  of  double  the  number  lie  had  expected  to 
provide  for.  It  was  observable  of  the  officers  and 
crew  of  the  Banshee,  that  while  they  did  not  hold 
themselves  aloof  from  the  passengers  in  the  dis- 
dainful American  manner,  they  were  of  feeble 
mind,  and  not  only  did  everything  very  slowly  (in 
the  usual  Canadian  fashion),  but  with  an  ineffi- 
ciency that  among  us  would  have  justified  them  in 
being  insolent.  The  people  sat  down  at  several 
successive  tables  to  the  Avorst  dinner  that  ever  was 
cooked ;  the  ladies  first,  and  the  gentlemen  after- 
wards, as  they  made  conquest  of  places.  At  the 
second  table,  to  Basil's  great  satisfaction,  he  found 
a  seat,  and  on  his  right  hand  the  distinguished  for- 
eigner. 

"  Naturally,  I  was  somewhat  abashed,"  he  said 
in  the  account  he  was  presently  called  to  give  Isa- 
bel of  the  interview,  "  but  I  remembered  that  I 
was  an  American  citizen,  and  tried  to  maintain  a 
decent  composure.  For  several  minutes  we  sat 
silent  behind  a  dish  of  flabby  cucumbers,  expecting 
the  dinner,  and  I  was  wondering  whether  I  should 
address  him  in  French  or  German,  —  for  I  knew 
you'd  never  forgive  me  if  I  let  slip  such  a  chance, 
—  when  he  turned  and  spoke  himself." 

"  O  what  did  he  say,  dearest  ?  " 

"  He  said,  '  Pretty  tejious  waitin,'  ain't  it  ? '  in 
the  best  New  York  State  accent." 


190 


THEIR   WKDDING   JOURNEY. 


"  You  don't  mean  it !  "  gasped  Isabel. 

"  But  I  do.  After  that  I  took  courage  to  ask 
what  his  cross  and  double-headed  eagle  meant. 
He  showed  the  condescension  of  a  true  nobleman. 
*  O,'  says  he,  *  I  'm  ghid  you  like  it,  and  it  's  not 
the  least  offense  to  ask,'  and  he  told  me.  Can 
3^ou  imagine  what  it  is  ?  It 's  the  emblem  of  the 
fifty-fourth  degree  in  the  secret  society  he  belongs 
to  I" 

"  I  don't  believe  it !  " 

'*  Well,  ask  him  yourself,  then,"  returned  Basil ; 
"  he  's  a  very  good  fellow.  '  O,  that  stare  !  noth- 
ing but  high  birth  and  long  descent  could  give 
it ! '  "  he  repeated,  abominably  implying  that  he 
had  himself  had  no  share  in  their  common  error. 

What  retort  Isabel  might  have  made  cannot  now 
be  known,  for  she  was  arrested  at  this  moment  by 
a  rumor  amongst  the  passengers  that  they  were 
coming  to  the  Long  Sault  Kapids.  Looking  for- 
ward she  saw  the  tossing  and  flashing  of  surges 
that,  to  the  eye,  are  certainly  as  threatening  as  the 
rapids  above  Niagara.  The  steamer  had  already 
passed  the  Deplau  and  the  Galopes,  and  they  had 
thus  had  a  foretaste  of  whatever  pleasure  or  terror 
there  is  in  the  descent  of  these  nine  miles  of  stormy 
sea.  It  is  purely  a  matter  of  taste,  about  shooting 
the  rapids  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  The  passengers 
like  it  better  than  the  captain  and  the  pilot,  to 
guess  by  their  looks,  and  the  women  and  children 
like  it  better  than  the  men.     It  is  no  doubt  very 


DOWN   THE   ST.    LAWRENCE. 


191 


tlirilling  and  picturesque  and  wildly  beautiful :  the 
children  crow  and  laugh,  the  women  shout  forth 
their  delight,  as  the  boat  enters  the  seething  cur- 
rent ;  gi'eat  foaming  waves  strike  her  bows,  and 
bi-awl  away  to  the  stern,  while  she  dips,  and  rolls, 
and  slioots  onward,  light  as  a  bird  blown  by  the 
wind  ;  the  wild  shores  and  islands  whirl  out  of 
sight :  you  feel  in  every  fibre  the  career  of  the 
vessel.  But  the  captain  sits  in  front  of  the  pilot- 
house smoking  with  a  grave  face,  the  pilots  tug 
hard  at  the  wheel ;  the  hoarse  roar  of  the  waters 
fills  the  air ;  beneath  the  smoother  sweeps  of  the 
current  you  can  see  the  brown  rocks ;  as  you  sink 
from  ledge  to  ledge  i/i  the  writhing  and  twisting 
steamer,  you  have  a  vague  sense  that  all  this  is 
perhaps  an  achievement  rather  than  an  enjoyment. 
When,  descending  the  Long  Sault,  you  look  back 
up  hill,  and  behold  those  billows  leaping  down  the 
steep  slope  after  you,  ••'  No  doubt,"  you  confide  to 
your  soul,  "  it  is  magnificent ;  but  it  is  not  pleas- 
ure." You  greet  with  silent  satisfaction  the  level 
river,  stretching  between  the  Long  Sault  and  the 
Coteau,  and  you  admire  the  delightful  tranquillity 
of  that  beautiful  Lake  St.  Francis  into  which  it 
expands.  Then  the  boat  shudders  into  the  Coteau 
Rapids,  and  down  through  the  Cedars  and  Cas- 
cades. On  the  rocks  of  the  last  lies  the  skel  -iton 
of  a  steamer  wrecked  upon  them,  and  gnawed  at 
still  by  the  white-tusked  wolfish  rapids.  No  one, 
they  say,  was  lost  from  her.     "But  how,"  Basil 


192 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


thought,  **  would  it  fare  with  all  these  people 
packed  here  upon  her  bow,  if  the  Banshee  should 
swing  round  upon  a  ledge  ?  "  As  to  Isabel,  she 
looked  upon  the  wrecked  steamer  with  indifference, 
as  did  all  the  women  ;  but  then  they  could  not 
swim,  and  would  not  have  to  save  themselves. 
*'  The  La  Chine 's  to  com^^  yet,"  they  exulted, 
"  and  that  's  the  awfullest  of  all !  " 

They  passed  the  Lake  St.  Louis  ;  the  La  Chine 
Rapids  flashed  into  sight.  The  captain  rose  up 
from  his  seat,  took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth,  and 
waved  a  silence  with  it.  "•  Ladies  and  gentlemen," 
said  he,  "  it 's  very  important  in  passing  these  rap- 
ids to  keep  the  boat  perfectly  trim.  Please  to  re- 
main just  as  you  are." 

It  was  twilight,  for  the  boat  was  late.  From 
the  Indian  vilhige  on  the  shore  they  signaled  to 
know  if  he  wanted  the  local  pilot ;  the  captain  re- 
fused ;  and  then  the  steamer  plunged  into  the  leap- 
ing waves.  From  rock  to  rock  she  swerved  and 
sank  ;  on  the  last  ledge  she  scraped  with  a  deadly 
touch  that  went  to  the  heart. 

Then  the  danger  was  passed,  and  the  noble  city 
of  Montreal  was  in  full  sight,  lying  at  the  foot  of 
her  dark  green  mountain,  and  lifting  her  many 
spires  into  the  rosy  twilight  air :  massive  and 
grand  sliowed  the  sister  towers  of  the  French  ca- 
thedral. 

Basil  had  hoped  to  approach  this  famous  city 
with  just  associations.     He  had  meant  to  conjure 


DOWN   THE   ST.    LAWRENCE. 


193 


up  for  Isabel's  sake  some  reflox,  however  faint,  of 
that  beautiful  picture  Mr.  Parkinan  has  painted  of 
Maisonneuve  founding  and  consecrating  Montreal. 
He  flushed  with  the  recollection  of  the  historian's 
phrase  ;  but  in  that  moment  there  came  forth  from 
the  cabin  a  pretty  young  person  who  gave  every 
token  of  being  a  pretty  young  actress,  even  to  the 
duenna-like,  elderly  female  companion,  to  be  de- 
tected in  the  remote  background  of  every  young 
actress.  She  had  flirted  audaciously  during  the 
day  with  some  young  Englishmen  and  Canadians 
of  her  acquaintance,  and  after  passing  tlie  La  Cliine 
Rapids  she  had  taken  the  hearts  of  all  the  men  by 
springing  suddenly  to  her  feet,  apostrophizing  tl»e 
tumult  with  a  charming  attitude,  and  warbling  a 
delicious  bit  of  song.  Now  as  they  drew  near  the 
city  the  Victoria  Bridge  stretched  its  long  tube 
athwart  the  river,  and  looked  so  low  because  of  its 
great  length  that  it  seemed  to  bar  the  steamer's 
passage. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  one  of  the  actress's  adorers,  — 
a  Canadian,  whose  face  was  exactly  that  of  the 
beaver  on  the  escutcheon  of  his  native  province, 
and  whose  heavy  gallantries  she  had  constantly  re- 
ceived with  a  gay,  impertinent  nonchalance,  —  ^''  I 
wonder  if  we    can   be    going   right    under    that 


bridge  ? 


?> 


"  No,  sir  I  "  answered  the  pretty  young  actress 
with  shocking  promptness,  "  we're  going  right  over 
it:    - 

13 


r^ 


194  THEIB  WEDDING  JOVKNEY. 

**  *  Three  groans  and  a  guggle, 

And  nn  awful  struggle, 

And  over  we  go  ! '" 

At  this  witless,  sweet  impudence  the  Canadian 
looked  very  sheepish  —  for  a  beaver  ;  and  all  the 
other  people  laughed ;  but  the  noble  historical 
shades  of  Basil's  thought  vanished  in  wounded 
dignity  beyond  recall,  and  left  him  feeling  rather 
ashamed,  —  for  he  had  laughed  too. 


vni. 


THE   SENTIMENT   OF   MONTREAL. 

The    feel- 
ing of  foreign 
travel   for 
which  our  tou- 
rists had  striv- 
en throughout 
their  journey, 
and  which 
they      liad 
known     in 
some     degree 
at     Kingston 
and    all     the 
way  down  the 
river,  was  in- 
tensified from 
the   first  mo- 
ment in  Mon- 
treal ;  and  it 
was  so  welcome  that  they  were  almost  glad  to  lose 
money  on  their  greenbacks,  which  the  conductor  of 
the  omnibus   would   take   only   at   a   discount   of 
twenty  cents.     At    breakfast   next   morning  they 


196 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


I: ) 


could  hardly  tell  on  what  country  they  had  fallen. 
The  waiters  had  but  a  thin  varnish  of  English 
speech  upon  their  native  French,  and  they  spoke 
their  own  tongue  with  each  other  ;  but  most  of  the 
meats  were  cooked  to  the  English  taste,  and  the 
whole  was  a  poor  imitation  of  an  American  hotel. 
During  their  stay  the  same  commingling  of  usages 
and  races  bewildered  them  ;  the  shops  were  English 
and  the  clerks  were  commonly  French  ;  the  car- 
riage-drivers were  often  Irish,  and  up  and  down 
the  streets  with  their  pious  old-fashioned  names, 
tinkled  American  horse-cars.  Everywhere  were 
churches  and  convents  that  recalled  the  ecclesias- 
tical and  feudal  origin  of  the  city  ;  the  great  tubu- 
lar bridge,  the  superb  water-front  with  its  long 
array  of  docks  only  surpassed  by  those  of  Liver- 
pool, the  solid  blocks  of  business  houses,  and  the 
substantial  mansions  on  the  quieter  streets,  pro- 
claimed the  succession  of  Protestant  thrift  and 
energy. 

Our  friends  cared  far  less  for  the  modern  splendor 
of  Montreal  than  for  the  remnants  of  its  past,  and 
for  the  features  that  identified  it  with  another  faith 
and  another  people  than  their  own.  Isabel  would 
almost  have  confessed  to  any  one  of  the  black-robed 
priests  upon  the  street ;  Basil  could  easily  have 
gone  down  upon  his  knees  to  the  white-hooded, 
pale-faced  nuns  gliding  among  the  crowd.  It  was 
rapture  to  take  a  carriage,  and  drive,  not  to  the 
cemetery,   not   to   the  public   library,   not  to  the 


THK   SENTIMENT   OF   MONTREAL. 


197 


rooms  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  or 
the  grain  elevators,  or  the  new  park  just  tricked  out 
with  rockwork  and  sprigs  of  evergreen,  —  not  to 
any  of  the  charming  resorts  of  our  own  cities,  but  as 
in  Europe  to  the  churches,  the  churches  of  a  pitiless 
superstition,  the  churches  with  their  atrocious  pic- 
tures and  statues,  their  lingering  smell  of  the  morn- 
ing's incense,  their  confessionals,  their  fee-taking 
sacristans,  their  worshippers  dropped  here  and  there 
upon  their  knees  about  the  aisles  and  saying  their 
prayers  with  shut  or  wandering  eyes  according  as 
they  were  old  women  or  young !  I  do  not  defend 
the  feeble  sentimentality,  —  call  it  wickedness  if 
you  like, — ^"but  I  understand  it,  and  I  forgive  it 
from  my  soul. 

Tlu^y  went  first,  of  course,  to  the  French  cathe- 
dral, pausing  on  their  way  to  alight  and  walk  through 
the  Bonsecours  Market,  where  the  habitans  have  all 
come  in  their  carts,  with  their  various  stores  of  poul- 
try, fruit,  and  vegetables,  and  Avhere  every  cart  is  a 
study.  Here  is  a  simple-faced  young  peasant- 
couj^le  with  butter  and  eggs  and  chickens  ravish- 
ingly  displayed  ;  here  is  a  smooth -cheeked,  black- 
eyed,  black-haired  young  girl,  looking  as  if  an  in- 
fusion of  Indian  blood  had  darkened  the  red  of  her 
cheeks,  presiding  over  a  stock  of  onions,  potatoes, 
beets,  and  turnips  ;  there  an  old  woman  with  a  face 
carven  like  a  walnut,  behind  a  flattering  array  of 
cherries  and  pears  ;  yonder  a  whole  family  traifick- 
ing  in  loaves  of  brown-bread  and  maple-sugar   in 


198 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


many  shapes  of  pious  and  grotesque  device.  There 
are  gay  shows  of  bright  scarfs  and  kerchiefs  and 
vari-colored  yarns,  and  sad  shows  of  old  clothes  and 
second-hand  merchandise  of  other  sorts  ;  but  above 
all  prevails  the  abundance  of  orchard  and  garden, 
while  within  the  fine  edifice  are  the  stalls  of  the 
butchers,  and  in  the  basement  below  a  world  of 
household  utensils,  glass-ware,  hard-ware,  and 
wooden-ware.  As  in  other  Latin  countries,  each 
peasant  has  given  a  personal  interest  to  his  wares, 
but  the  bargains  are  not  clamored  over  as  in  Latin 
lands  abroad.  Whatever  protest  and  concession 
and  invocation  of  the  saints  attend  the  transaction 
of  business  at  Bonsecours  Market  are  in  a  subdued 
tone.  The  fat  huckster-women  drowsing  beside 
their  wares,  scarce  send  their  voices  beyond  the 
borders  of  their  broad-brimmed  straw  hats,  as  they 
softly  haggle  with  purchasers,  or  tranquilly  gossip 
.  together. 

At  the  cathedral  there  are,  perhaps,  the  worst 
paintings  in  the  world,  and  the  massive  pine-board 
pillars  are  unscrupulously  smoked  to  look  like  mar- 
ble ;  but  our  tourists  enjoyed  it  as  if  it  had  been 
St.  Peter's  ;  in  fact  it  has  something  of  the  barn- 
like immensity  and  impressiveness  of  St.  Peter's. 
They  did  not  ask  it  to  be  beautiful  or  grand  ;  they 
desired  it  only  to  recall  the  beloved  ugliness,  the 
fondly  cherished  hideousness  and  incongruity  of 
the  average  Catholic  churches  of  their  remem- 
brance, and  it  did  this  and  more :  it  added  an  effect 


THE   SENTIMENT   OF   iMONTREAL. 


199 


of  its  own  ;  it  offered  the  spectacle  of  a  swarthy  old 
Indian  kneeling  before  the  high  altar,  telling  his 
beads,  and  saying  with  many  sighs  and  tears  the 
prayers  which  it  cost  so  much  martyrdom  and  he- 
roism to  teach  his  race.  ••'  O,  it  is  only  a  savage 
man,"  said  the  little  French  boy  who  was  showing 
them  the  place,  impatient  of  their  interest  in  a 
thing  so  unworthy  as  this  gi'oaning  barbarian.  He 
ran  swiftly  about  from  object  to  object,  rapidly  lec- 
turing their  inattention.  "  It  is  now  time  to  go 
up  into  the  tower,"  said  he,  and  they  gladly  made 
that  toilsome  ascent,  though  it  is  doubtful  if  the  as- 
cent of  toAvers  is  not  too  much  like  the  ascent  of 
mountains  ever  to  be  compensatory.  From  the  top 
of  Notre  Dame  is  certainly  to  be  had  a  prospect 
upon  which,  but  for  his  fluttered  nerves  and  trem- 
bling muscles  and  troubled  respiration,  the  traveller 
might  well  look  Avith  delight,  and  as  it  is  must  be- 
hold with  wonder.  So  far  as  the  eye  reaches  it 
dwells  only  upon  what  is  magnificent.  All  the  fea- 
tures of  that  landscape  are  grand.  Below  you 
spreads  the  city,  which  has  less  that  is  merely  mean 
in  it  than  any  other  city  of  our  continent,  and  which 
is  everywhere  ennobled  by  stately  civic  edifices, 
adorned  by  tasteful  churches,  and  skirted  by  full- 
foliaged  avenues  of  mansions  and  villas.  Behind  it 
rises  the  beautiful  mountain,  green  with  woods  and 
gardens  to  its  crest,  and  flanked  on  the  east  by  an 
endless  fertile  plain,  and  on  the  west  by  another 
expanse,  through  which  the  Ottawa  rushes,  turl^id 


I 


i  i 
.   1        i 

M     1 

1 

■  '     1, 

,           ■; 

i 

200 


THEIR   WKDDING    JOURNKY. 


and  dark,  to  its  confluence  with  the  St.  Lawrence. 
Then  these  two  mighty  streams  commingled  flow 
past  the  city,  lighting  up  the  vast  champaign  coun- 
try to  the  south,  while  upon  the  utmost  southern 
verge,  as  on  the  northern,  rise  the  cloudy  summits 
of  far-ott'  mountains. 

As  our,  travellers  gazed  upon  all  this  grandeur, 
their  hearts  were  humbled  to  the  tacit  admission 
that  the  colonial  metropolis  was  not  only  worthy  of 
its  seat,  but  had  traits  of  a  solid  prosperity  not  ex- 
cellei'  by  any  of  the  abounding  and  boastful  cities 
of  the  Republic.  Long  before  they  quitted  Mon- 
treal they  had  rallied  from  this  weakness,  but  they 
delighted  still  to  honor  her  superb  beauty. 

The  tower  is  naturally  bescribbled  to  its  top  with 
the  names  of  those  who  have  climbed  it,  and  most 
of  these  are  Americans,  who  flock  in  great  numbers 
to  Canada  in  summer.  They  modify  its  hotel  life, 
and  the  objects  of  interest  thrive  upon  their  bounty. 
Our  friends  met  them  at  every  turn,  and  knew  them 
at  a  glance  from  the  native  populations,  who  are 
also  easily  distinguishable  from  each  other.  The 
French  Canadians  are  nearly  always  of  a  peasant- 
like commonness,  or  where  they  rise  above  this 
have  a  bourgeois  commonness  of  face  and  maimer  ; 
and  the  English  Canadians  are  to  be  known  from 
the  many  English  sojourners  by  the  effort  to  look 
much  more  English  than  the  latter.  The  social 
heart  of  the  colony  clings  fast  to  the  mother-coun- 
try, that  is  plain,  whatever  the  political  tendency 


THE   SENTIMENT   OF  MONTREAL. 


201 


may  be  ;  and  the   public   monuments   and  inscrip- 
tions celebrate  this  affectionate  union. 

At  the  English  cathedral  the  effect  is  d«  epened 
by  the  epitaphs  of  those  whose  lives  were  passed  in 
the  joint  service  of  England  and  her  loyal  child  ; 
and  our  travellers,  whatever  their  want  of  sympathy 
with  the  sentiment,  had  to  own  to  a  certain  beauty 
in  that  attitude  of  proud  reverence.     Here,  at  least, 
was  a  people  not  cut  off  from  its  past,  but  holdin^,, 
unbroken  in  life  and  death,  the  ties  which  exist  for 
us   only   in   history.     It  gave  a  glamour  of  olden 
time  to  the  new  land ;  it  touched  the  prosaic  demo- 
cratic present  with  the  waning  poetic  light  of  the 
aristocratic  and  monarchical  tradition.     There  was 
here  and  there  a  title  on  the  tablets,  and  there  was 
everywhere  the  formal  language  of  loyalty  and  of 
veneration    for  things  we  have  tumbled   into    the 
dust.    It  is  a  beautiful  church,  of  admirable  English 
Gothic  ;  if  you  are  so  happy,  you  are  rather  curtly 
told  you  may  enter  by  a  burly  English  figure  in 
some  kind   of  sombre   ecclesiastical   drapery,  and 
within  its  quiet  precincts  you  may  feel  yourself  in 
England  if  you  like,  —  which,  for  my  part,  I  do  not. 
Neither  did  our   friends  enjoy  it   so   much  as  the 
Church  of  the  Jesuits,  with  its  more  than  tolerable 
painting,  its  coldly  frescoed  ceiling,  its  architectu- 
ral taste  of  subdued  Renaissance,  and  its  black-eyed 
peasant-girl  telling  her  beads  before  a  side  altar, 
just  as  in  the  enviably  deplorable  countries  we  all 
love  ;  nor  so  much  even  as  the  Irish  cathedral  which 


|! 


202 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


they  next  visited.  That  is  a  very  gorgeous  cathe- 
dral indeed,  painted  and  gilded  a  merveille^  and 
everywhere  stuck  about  with  big  and  little  saints 
and  crucifixes,  and  pictures  incredibly  bad  —  but 
for  those  in  the  French  catiiedral.  There  is,  of 
course,  a  series  lepresenting  Christ's  progress  to 
Calvary  ;  and  there  was  a  very  tattered  old  man, 
—  an  old  man  whose  voice  had  been  long  ago 
drowned  in  whiskey,  and  who  now  spoke  in  a 
ghostly  whisper,  —  who,  when  he  saw  Basil's  eye 
fall  upon  the  series,  made  him  go  the  round  of 
them,  and  tediously  ex|)lained  them. 

*'  Why  did  you  let  that  old  wretch  bore  you,  and 
then  pay  him  for  it  ?  "  Isabel  asked. 

"  O,  it  reminded  me  so  sweetly  of  the  swindles 
of  other  lands  and  days,  that  I  couldn't  help  it," 
he  answered ;  and  straightway  in  the  eyes  of  both 
that  poor,  whiskeyfied,  Irish  tatterdemalion  stood 
transfigured  to  the  glorious  likeness  of  an  Italian 
I  e;j<»;ar. 

They  were  always  doing  something  of  this  kind, 
thofe  absurdly  sentimental  people,  whom  yet  I  can- 
not find  it  in  my  heart  to  blame  for  their  folly, 
though  I  could  name  ever  so  many  reasons  for  re- 
buking it.  Why,  in  fact,  should  we  wish  to  find 
America  like  Europe  ?  Are  the  ruins  and  impos- 
tures and  miseries  and  superstitions  which  beset 
the  traveller  abroad  so  precious,  that  he  should 
desire  to  imagine  them  at  every  step  in  his  OAvn 
hemisphere  ?     Or  have  we  then  of  our  own  no  ef- 


L 


Till-:   SENTIMENT    OF   MONTREAL. 


203 


fective  shapes  of  ignorance  and  want  and  incredi- 
bility, that  we  must  forever  seek  an  alien  contiast 
to  our  native  intelligence  and  comfort  ?  Some 
such  questions  this  guilty  couple  put  to  each  other, 
and  then  drove  off  to  visit  the  convent  of  the  Gray 
Nuns  with  a  joyful  expectation  which  I  suppose  the 
prospect  of  the  finest  public-school  exhibition  in 
Boston  could  never  have  inspired.  But,  indeed, 
since  there  must  be  Gray  Nuns,  is  it  not  well  that 
there  are  sentimentalists  to  take  a  mournful  pleas- 
ure in  their  sad,  pallid  existence  ? 

The  convent  is  at  a  good  distance  from  the  Irish 
cathedral,  and  in  going  to  it  the  tourists  made 
their  driver  carry  them  through  one  of  the  few 
old  French  streets  which  still  remain  in  Montreal. 
Fires  and  improvements  had  made  havoc  among 
the  quaint  houses  since  Basil's  first  visit ;  but  at 
last  they  came  upo  i  a  narrow,  ancient  Rue  Saint 
Antoine,  —  or  whatever  other  saint  it  was  called 
after,  —  in  which  there  was  no  English  face  or 
house  to  be  seen.  The  doors  of  the  little  one-story 
dwellings  opened  from  the  pavement,  and  within 
you  saw  fat  madame  the  mother  moving  about  her 
domestic  affairs,  and  spare  monsieur  the  elderly 
husband  smoking  beside  the  open  window ;  French 
babies  crawled  about  the  tidy  floors  ;  French  mar- 
tyrs (let  us  believe  Lalement  or  Brdbeuf,  who  gave 
up  their  heroic  lives  for  the  conversion  of  Canada) 
lifted  their  eyes  in  high-colored  lithographs  on  the 
wall ;  among  the  flower-pots  in  the  dormer-window 


'i! 


204 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


I: 


I  I 


looking  from  every  tin  roof  sat  and  sewed  a  smooth- 
haired  young  girl,  I  hope,  —  the  romance  of  each 
Httle  mansion.  The  antique  and  foreign  character 
of  the  place  was  accented  by  the  inscription  upon  a 
wall  of  "  Sirop  adoucissant  de  Madame  Winslow." 
Ever  since  1692  the  Gray  Nuns  have  made  a 
refuge  within  the  ample  borders  of  their  convent 
for  infirm  old  people  and  for  foundling  children, 
and  it  is  now  in  the  regular  course  of  sight-seeing 
for  the  traveller  to  visit  their  hospital  at  noonday, 
when  he  beholds  the  Sisters  at  their  devotions  in 
the  chapel.  It  is  a  bare,  white-walled,  cold-look- 
ing chapel,  with  the  usual  paraphernalia  of  pictures 
and  crucifixes.  Seated  upon  low  benches  on  either 
side  of  the  aisle  were  the  curious  or  the  devout ; 
the  former  in  greater  number  and  chiefly  Ameri- 
cans, who  were  now  and  then  whispered  silent  by 
an  old  pauper  zealous  for  the  sanctity  of  the  putce. 
At  the  stroke  of  twelve  the  Sisters  entered  two  by 
two,  followed  by  the  lady-superior  with  a  prayer- 
book  in  her  hand.  She  clapped  the  leaves  of  this 
togetlier  in  signal  for  them  to  kneel,  to  rise,  to 
kneel  again  and  rise,  while  they  repeated  in  rather 
harsli  voices  their  prayers,  and  then  clattered  out 
of  the  cliiipel  as  they  had  clattered  in,  with  re- 
sounding shoes.  The  two  young  girls  at  the  head 
were  very  pretty,  and  all  the  pale  faces  had  a 
corpse-like  peace.  As  Basil  looked  at  their  pen- 
sive sameness,  it  seemed  to  him  that  those  prettiest 
girls  might  very  well  be  the  twain  that  he  had  seen 


THK   SKNTIMKXT    OF   MONTKEAL. 


205 


there  so  muny  years  ago,  stricken  forevci'  young  in 
their  joyless  beauty.  'I'he  ungraceful  gowns  of 
coarse  gray,  the  bhie  checked  aprons,  the  bhick 
nrape  caps,  were  the  same  ;  they  came  and  went 
•with  the  same  quick  tread,  touching  tlieir  browa 
with  holy  water  and  kneeling  and  rising  now  as 
then  with  the  same  constrained  and  ordered  move- 
ments. Would  it  be  too  cruel  if  they  were  really 
the  same  persons  ?  or  would  it  be  yet  more  cruel  if 
every  year  two  girls  so  young  and  fair  were  self- 
doomed  to  renew  the  likeness  of  that  youthful 
death  ? 

The  visitors  went  about  the  hospital,  and  saw 
the  old  men  and  the  little  children  to  whom  these 
good  pure  lives  were  given,  and  they  could  only 
blame  the  system,  not  the  instruments  or  their 
work.  Perhaps  they  did  not  judge  wisely  of  the 
amount  of  self-sacrifice  involved,  for  they  judged 
from  hearts  to  which  love  was  the  whole  of  earth 
and  heaven  ;  but  nevertheless  they  pitied  the  Gray 
Nuns  amidst  the  unhomelike  comfort  of  their  con- 
vent, the  unnatural  care  of  those  alien  little  ones. 
Poor  Sauirs  G rises !  in  their  narrow  cells  ;  at  the 
bedside  of  sickness  and  age  and  sorrow ;  kneeling 
with  clasped  hands  and  yearning  eyes  before  the 
bloody  spectacle  of  the  cross  !  —  the  power  of  your 
Church  is  shown  far  more  subtly  and  mightily  in 
such  as  you,  than  in  her  grandest  fanes  or  the  sight 
of  her  most  august  ceremonies,  with  praying  priests, 
swinging  censers,  tapers  and  pictures  and  images, 


li 


ij, ' 


I' 


206 


THKIR   WKDDIN'O   JOUUNKV. 


under  a  gloomy  heaven  of  cathedral  arches.  There, 
indeed,  the  faithful  have  given  their  substance ; 
but  here  the  nun  has  given  up  the  most  precious 
part  of  lier  woman's  nature,  and  all  the  tenderness 
that  clings  about  the  thought  of  wife  and  mother. 

**  There  are  some  things  that  always  greatly 
afflict  me  in  the  idea  of  a  new  country,"  said  Basil, 
as  they  loitered  slowly  through  the  grounds  of  the 
convent  toward  the  gate.  '*  Of  course,  it 's  absurd 
to  think  of  men  as  other  than  men,  as  having 
changed  their  natures  with  their  skies ;  but  a  new 
land  always  does  seem  at  first  thoughts  like  a  new 
chance  afforded  the  race  for  goodness  and  happi- 
ness, for  liealtli  and  life.  So  I  grieve  for  the  earli- 
est dead  at  Plymouth  more  than  for  the  multitude 
that  the  plague  swept  away  in  London  ;  I  shudder 
over  the  crime  of  the  first  guilty  man,  the  sin  of 
the  first  wicked  woman  in  a  new  country  ;  the 
trouble  of  the  first  youth  or  maiden  crossed  in  love 
there  is  intolerable.  All  should  be  hope  and  free- 
dom and  prosperous  life  upon  that  virgin  soil.  It 
never  was  so  since  Eden  ;  but  none  the  less  I  feel 
it  ouglit  to  be  ;  and  I  am  oppressed  by  the  thought 
that  among  the  earliest  walls  which  rose  upon  this 
broad  meadow  of  Montreal  were  those  built  to  im- 
mure the  innocence  of  such  young  girls  as  these, 
and  shut  them  from  the  life  we  find  so  fair. 
Wouldn't  you  like  to  know  who  was  the  first  that 
took  the  veil  in  this  wild  new  country  ?  Who  was 
she,  poor  soul,  and  what  was  her  deep  sorrow  or 


THE   SENTIMENT   OF  MONTREAL. 


207 


lofty  rapture  ?  You  can  fancy  her  some  Indian 
maiden  lured  to  the  renunciation  by  the  splendor 
of  symbols  and  promises  seen  vaguely  through  the 
lingering  mists  of  her  native  superstitions  ;  or  some 
weary  soul,  sick  from  the  vanities  and  vices,  the 
bloodshed  and  the  tears  of  the  Old  World,  and 
eager  for  a  silence  profounder  than  that  of  the  wil- 
derness into  which  she  had  fled.  Well,  the  Church 
knows  and 'God.     She  was  dust  long  afjo." 

From  time  to  time  there  had  fallen  little  fitful 
showers  during  the  morning.  Now  as  the  wedding- 
journeyers  passed  out  of  the  convent  gate  the  rain 
droppe.l  soft  and  thin,  and  the  gray  clouds  that 
floated  through  the  sky  so  swiftly  were  as  far-seen 
Gray  Sisters  in  flight  for  heaven. 


"  We  shall  have  time  for  the  drive  round  the 
mountain  before  dinner,"  said  Basil,  as  they  got 
into  their  carriage  again ;  and  he  was  giving  the 
order  to  the  driver,  when  Isabel  asked  how  far  it 
was. 

''  Nine  miles." 

"  O,  then  we  can't  think  of  going  with  one  horse. 
You  know,"  she  added,  '*  that  we  always  intended 
to  have  two  horses  for  going  round  the  mountain." 

'*No,"  said  Basil,  not  yet  used  to  having  his 
decisions  reached  without  his  knowledge.  **  And  I 
don't  see  why  we  should.  Everybody  goes  with 
one.    You  don't  suppose  we're  too  heavy,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  had  a  party  from  the  States,  ma'am,  yester- 


208 


THKIU   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


I'  r 


I. 


(•■ 


day,"  interposed  the  driver;  "  two  ladies,  real  heavy 
ones,  two  gentlemen,  weighin'  two  hundred  apiece, 
and  a  stout  young  man  on  the  box  with  me. 
You'd  'a'  thought  the  horse  was  drawin'  an  empty 
carriage,  the  way  she  darted  along." 

"•  Then  his  horse  must  be  perfectly  worn  out 
to-day,"  siiid  Isabel,  refusing  to  admit  the  poor 
fellow  directly  even  to  the  honors  of  a  defeat.  He 
had  proved  too  much,  and  was  put  out  of -court  with 
no  hoi)e  of  repairing  his  error. 

'*  Why,  it  seems  a  pity,"  whispered  Basil,  dis- 
passionately, *'  to  turn  this  man  adrift,  when  he  had 
a  reasonable  hope  of  being  with  us  all  day,  and  has 
been  so  civil  and  obliging." 

*'  O  yes,  Basil,  sentimentalize  him,  do  I  Why 
don't  you  sentimentalize  his  helpless,  overworked 
horse  ?  ^-  all  in  a  reek  of  perspiration." 

"  Perspiration  I     Why,  my  dear,  it  's  the  rain  !  " 

"  Well,  rain  or  shine,  darling,  I  don't  want  to  go 
round  the  mountain  with  one  horse  ;  and  it  's  very 
unkind  of  you  to  insist  now,  when  you've  tacitly 
promised  me  all  along  to  take  two." 

"  Now,  this  ia  a  little  too  much,  Isabel.  You 
know  we  never  mentioned  the  matter  till  this 
moment." 

"  It 's  the  same  as  a  promise,  your  not  saying  you 
wouldn't.  But  I  don't  ask  you  to  keep  your  word. 
I  don't  want  to  go  round  the  mountain.  I'd  much 
rather  go  to  the  hotel.     I'm  tired." 

'^  Very  well,  then,  Isabel,  I'll  leave  you  at  the 
hotel." 


TlIK   SKNTIMENT   OF   iMONTRKAL. 


209 


In  a  moment  it  luul  come,  the  first  serious  dispute 


of  their   wedded   life.     It   luid  come   as   .ill   such 


the 


calamities  come,  from  nothing,  and  it  was  on  them. 


210 


THKIR  WFDDING   JOURNEY. 


r 


ii 


I':        Ii 


in  full  disaster  ere  they  knew.     Such  a  very  little 
while  ago,  there  in  the  convent  garden,  their  lives 
had  been  drawn  closer  in  sympathy  than  ever  be- 
fore ;  and  now  that  blessed  time  seemed  ages  since, 
and  they  were  furtlier  asunder  than  those  who  have 
never  been  friends.     "  1  thought,"  bitterly  mused 
Isabel,    '•'•  tliat    he  would   have  done   anytliing   for 
me."     "•  Who  could  have  dreamed  that  a  wouum  of 
her  sense  would  be  so  unreasonable,"  he  wondered. 
Both   had  tempers,  as   1  know  my  dearest  reader 
has  (if  a  lady),  and  neither  would  yieUl ;  and  so, 
presently,  they  could  hardly  tell  how,  for  they  were 
aghast  at  it  all,  Isabel  was  alone  in  her  room  amidst 
the  ruins  of  her  life,  and  liasil  alone  in  the  one- 
horse  carriage,  trying  to  drive  away  from  the  wreck 
of  his   happiness.     All  was  over  ;  the   dream  was 
past ;    the  charm  was   broken.     The  sweetness  of 
their  love  was  turned  to  gall ;  whatever  had  pleased 
them  in  their  loving  moods  was  loathsome  now,  and 
the  things  they  had  praised  a  moment  before  were 
hateful.     In  that   baleful  light,  which   seemed   to 
dwell  U[)on  all  they  ever  said  or  did  in  mutual  enjoy- 
ment, how  poor  and  stupid  and  empty  looked  then: 
wedding-journey  !     Basil  spent  five  minutes  in  ar- 
raigning his  wife  and  convicting  her  of  every  folly 
and  fault.     His  soul  was  in  a  whirl,  — 

"  For  to  be  wroth  with  one  we  love 
Doth  work  like  iiiadtiess  in  the  brain.' 

In  the  midst  of  his  bitter  and  furious  upbraidinga 
he  found  himself  suddenly  become  her  ardent  ad- 


THE   SKNTIMKNT   OF   MONTREAL. 


211 


btle 
ves 
be- 
iice, 
lave 
used 
for 
m  of 
3red. 
•ader 
id  so, 
were 
midst 

I  one- 
wreck 

II  was 
ess  of 
leased 
w,  and 
e  were 
led  to 

enjoy- 
l  their 
in  ar- 
y  folly 


•aidinga 
ent  ad- 


vocate, and  ready  to  denounce  her  judge  as  a  heart- 
less monster.  '*  On  our  wedding  journey,  too  ! 
Good  heavens,  what  an  incredible  brute  I  am ! " 
Then  he  said,  '*  VVhat  an  ass  I  am!"  And  tlie 
pathos  of  the  case  having  yielded  to  its  absurdity, 
lie  wjis  helpless.  In  five  minutes  more  he  was  at 
Isabel's  side,  the  one-horse  carriage  driver  dismissed 
with  a  handsome  pour-lwire^  and  a  pair  of  lusty 
bays  with  a  glittering  barouche  waiting  at  the  door 
below,  lie  swiftly  accounted  for  his  pnvsence,  which 
she  seemed  to  Hud  the  most  natural  thing  tliat  could 
be,  and  she  met  his  surrender  with  the  openness  of 
a  heart  that  forgives  but  does  not  forget,  if  indeed 
the  most  gracious  art  is  the  only  one  unknown  to 
the  sex. 

She  rose  with  a  smile  from  the  ruins  of  her  life, 
amidst  which  she  had  heart-brokenly  sat  down  with 
all  her  things  on.  '*  1  knew  you'd  come  back,"  she 
said. 

*'  So  did  I,"  he  answered.  "  I  am  much  too  good 
and  noble  to  sacrifice  my  preference  to  my  duty." 

*••  I  didn't  care  particularly  for  the  two  horses, 
Basil,"  she  said,  as  they  descended  to  the  barouche. 
*'  It  was  your  refusing  them  that  hurt  me." 

"And  I  didn't  want  tlie  one-horse  carriage.  It 
was  your  insisting  so  tluit  provoked  me." 

"  Do  you  think  people  ever  quarreled  before  on 
a  wedding  journey  ?  "  asked  Isabel  as  they  drove 
gayly  out  of  the  city. 

**  Never !  I  can't  conceive  of  it.  I  suppose  if 
this  were  written  down,  nobody  would  believe  it." 


I' 


•  t 


!l  I 


f 


1         1 


li       ) 


n 


212 


THEIR   WKDDING   JOURNKY. 


*'No,  nobody  could,"  said  Isabel,  musingly  ;  and 
she  added  after  a  pause,  "  I  wisli  you  would  tell 
me  just  Avhat  you  thought  of  me,  dearest.  Did 
you  feel  as  you  did  when  our  little  affair  was 
broiveii  off,  long  ago  ?     Did  you  hate  me  ?  " 

''  I  did,  most  cordially ;  but  not  half  so  much  as 
I  despised  myself  the  next  moment.  As  to  its 
being  like  a  lover's  quarrel,  it  wasn't.  It  was  more 
bitter  :  so  much  more  love  than  lovers  ever  give 
had  to  be  taken  back,  liesides,  it  had  no  dignity, 
and  a  lover's  quarrel  always  has.  A  lover's  quar- 
rel always  springs  from  a  more  serious  cause,  and 
has  an  air  of  romantic  tragedy.  Tliis  had  no 
grace  of  the  kind.  It  was  a  poor  shabby  little 
squabble." 

"  O,  don't  call  it  so,  Basil !  "  I  should  like  you  to 
.respect  even  a  quarrel  of  ours  more  tlian  that.  It 
was  tragical  enough  with  me,  for  I  didn't  see  how 
it  could  ever  be  made  up.  I  knew  /couldn't  make 
the  advances.  I  don't  think  it  is  quite  feminme  to 
be  the  first  to  forgive,  is  it  ?  " 

"  I'm  sure  I  can't  say.  Perhaps  it  would  be 
rather  unladylike." 

*'  Well,  you  see,  dearest,  what  I  am  trying  to  get 
at  is  this :  whether  we  shall  love  each  other  the 
more  or  the  less  for  it.  /  think  we  shall  get  on 
all  the  better  for  a  while,  on  account  of  it.  But  I 
should  have  said  it  was  totally  out  of  character. 
It 's  something  you  might  have  expected  of  a  very 
young  bridal  couple  ;  but  after  what  we've  been 
through,  it  seems  too  improbable." 


THE   SENTIMENT   OF   MONTREAL. 


213 


♦*  Very  well,"  said  Basil,  who,  having  made  all 
the  concessions,  could  not  enjoy  the  quarrel  as  she 
did,  simply  because  it  was  theirs  ;  f  let  's  behave  as 
if  it  had  never  been." 

"  O  no,  we  can't.  To  me,  it 's  as  if  we  had  just 
won  each  other." 

In  fact  it  gave  a  wond'^rful  zest  and  freshness  to 
that  ride  round  the  mountain,  and  shed  a  beneficent 
glow  upon  the  rest  of  their  journey.  The  sun  came 
out  through  the  thin  clouds,  and  lighted  up  the  vast 
plain  that  swept  away  north  and  east,  with  the 
purple  heights  against  the  eastern  sky.  The  royal 
mountain  lifted  its  graceful  mass  beside  them,  and 
hid  the  city  wholly  from  sight.  Peasant-villages, 
in  the  shade  of  beautiful  elms,  dotted  the  plain  in 
every  direction,  and  at  intervals  crept  up  to  the  side 
of  the  road  along  which  they  drove.  But  these  had  ' 
been  corrupted  by  a  more  ambitious  architecture 
since  Basil  saw  them  last,  and  were  no  longer  purely 
French  in  appearance.  Then,  nearly  every  house 
was  a  tannery  in  a  modest  way,  and  poetically 
published  the  fact  by  the  display  of  a  sheep's  tail 
over  the  front  door,  like  a  bush  at  a  wine-shop. 
Now,  if  the  tanneries  still  existed,  the  poetry  of  the 
sheeps'  tails  had  vanished  from  the  portals.  But 
our  friends  were  consoled  by  meeting  numbers  of  the 
peasants  jolting  home  from  market  in  the  painted 
carts,  which  are  doubtless  of  the  pattern  of  the 
carts  first  built  there  two  hundred  years  ago.  They 
were  gi*ateful  for  the  immortal  old  women,  crooked 


m 


214 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


r '     ! 


;■  '      i 


If'       'tii     *         • 


:4i 


and  b^o^vll  witli  the  labor  of  the  fields,  who  abounded 
in  these  vehicles ;  when  a  huge  girl  jumped  from 
the  tail  of  her  cart,  and  showed  the  thick,  clumsy 
ankles  of  a  true  peasant-maid,  they  could  only  sigh 
out  their  unspeakable  satisfaction. 

Gardens  embowered  and  perfumed  the  low  cot  • 
tages,  through  the  open  doors  of  which  they  could 
see  the  exquisite  neatness  of  the  life  within.  One 
of  the  doors  opened  into  a  school-house,  where  they 
beheld  with  rapture  the  school-mistress,  book  in 
liand,  and  with  a  quaint  cap  on  her  gray  head,  and 
encircled  by  her  flock  of  little  boys  and  girls. 

Hy  and  by  it  began  to  rain  again ;  and  now 
while  their  driver  stopped  to  put  up  the  top  of  the 
barouche,  they  entered  a  country  church  which  had 
taken  their  fancy,  and  walked  up  the  aisle  with  the 
•  steps  that  blend  with  silence  rather  than  break  it, 
while  they  heard  only  the  soft  whisper  of  the  shower 
without.  There  was  no  one  there  but  themselves. 
The  urn  of  holy  water  seemed  not  to  have  been 
troubled  that  day,  and  no  penitent  knelt  at  the 
shrine,  before  which  twinkled  so  faintly  one  lighted 
lamp.  The  white  roof  swelled  into  dim  arches 
over  their  heads ;  the  pale  day  like  a  visible  hush 
stole  through  the  painted  windows ;  they  heard 
themselves  breathe  as  they  crept  from  picture  to 
picture. 

A  narrow  door  opened  at  the  side  of  the  high 
altar,  and  a  slender  young  priest  appeared  in  a 
long  black  robe,  and  with  shaven  head.     He,  too, 


THE   SENriMFNT   OF   MONTREAL. 


215 


as  he  moved  with  noisekiss  feet,  seemed  a  part  of 
tl)e  silence ;  and  when  he  approached  with  dreamy 
black  eyes  fixed  upon  them,  and  bowed  courteously, 
it  seemed  impossible  he  should  speak.  But  he 
S])oke,  the  pale  young  j)riest,  the  dark-robed  tra- 
dition, the  tonsured  vision  of  an  age  and  a  church 
that  are  passing. 

"  Do  you  un- 
derstand French, 
monsieur  ?  " 

*'  A  very  little, 
monsieur." 

"  A  very  little 
is  more  than  my 
English,"  he  said, 
yet  he  politely 
went  the  round  of 
the  pictures  witli 
them,  and  gave 
them  the  names  of 
the  painters  be- 
tween his  cross- 
ings at  the  differ- 
ent altars.  At  the 
high  altar  there 
was  a  very  fair 
Crucifixion  ;  be- 
fore this  the  priest  bent  one  knee.  "  Fine  picture, 
fine  altar,  fine  church,"  he  said  in  English.  At 
last  they  stopped   near  the  poor-box.      As   their 


T 


i 


:' 


216 


THEIR  WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


coins  clinked  against  tliose  ^vitllin,  he  smiled  se- 
renely upon  the  good  heretics.  Then  he  bowed, 
and,  as  if  he  had  relapsed  into  the  past,  he  van- 
ished through  the  narrow  door  by  which  he  had 
entered. 

Basil  and  Isabel  stood  speechless  a  moment  on 
the  churcli  steps.     Then  she  cried,  — 

"  O,  why  didnt  something  happen  ?  " 

"  Ah,  my  dear !  what  could  have  been  half  so 
good  as  the  nothing  that  did  happen  ?  Suppose 
we  knew  him  to  have  taken  orders  because  of  a  dis- 
appointment in  love:  how  common  it  would  have 
made  him  ;  everybody  has  been  crossed  in  love  once 
or  twice."  He  bade  the  driver  take  them  back  to 
the  hotel.  "  This  is  the  very  bouquet  of  adventure : 
why  should  we  care  for  the  grosser  body  ?  I  dare 
say  if  we  knew  all  about  yonder  pale  young  priest, 
we  should  not  think  him  half  so  interesting  as  we 
do  now." 

At  dinner  they  spent  the  intervals  of  the  courses 
in  guessing  the  nationality  of  the  different  persons, 
and  in  wondering  if  the  Canadians  did  not  make  it 
a  matter  of  conscientious  loyalty  to  out-English  the 
English  even  in  the  matter  of  pale-ale  and  sherry, 
and  in  rotundity  of  person  and  freshness  of  face, 
just  as  they  emulated  them  in  the  cut  of  their 
clothes  and  whiskers.  Must  they  found  even  their 
health  upon  the  health  of  the  mother-country  ? 

Our  friends  began  to  detect  something  servile  in 
it  all,  and  but  that  they  were  such  amiable  persons, 


THE   SENTIMENT   OF   MONTKEAL. 


217 


the  loyally  perfect  digestion  of  jVIontreiil  would  have 
gone  far  to  impair  their  own. 

The  loyalty,  which  had  already  api>eared  to 
them  in  the  cathedral,  suggested  itself  in  many 
ways  upon  the  street,  when  they  went  out  after 
dinner  to  do  that  little  shopping  which  Isabel  had 
planned  to  do  in  Montreal.  The  boolisellers'  win- 
dows were  full  of  Canadian  editions  of  our  authors, 
and  English  copies  of  English  works,  instead  of  our 
pirated  editions ;  the  dry -goods  stores  were  gay 
with  fabrics  in  the  London  taste  and  gsirments  of 
the  London  shape ;  here  was  the  sign  of  a  photog- 
rapher to  the  Queen,  there  of  a  hatter  to  H.  U.  IL 
the  Prince  of  Wales ;  a  barber  was  '^  under  the 
patronage  of  H.  R.  H.  the  Prince  of  Wales,  If.  E. 
the  Duke  of  Cambridge,  and  the  gentry  of  Mon- 
treal." Ich  dien  was  the  motto  of  a  restaurateur  ; 
a  hosier  had  gallantly  labeled  his  st(K'k  in  trade 
with  Honi  soit  qui  mat  y  pense.  Again  tliey  noted 
the  English  solidity  of  the  civic  edifices,  and  already 
they  had  observed  in  the  foreign  p()j)ulation  a  dif- 
ference from  that  at  home.  They  saw  no  (lerman 
faces  on  the  streets,  and  the  Irish  faces  had  not  that 
truculence  which  thev  wear  sometimes  with  us. 
They  had  not  lost  their  native  simpleness  and  kind- 
liness ;  the  Irishmen  who  drove  the  public  carriages 
were  as  civil  as  our  own  Boston  hackmen,  and  be- 
haved as  respectfully  under  the  shadow  of  Enghind 
here,  as  they  would  have  done  under  it  in  Ireland. 
The  problem  which  vexes  us  seems  to  have  been 


ir 


>hl 


218 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


'I  ! 


!  ■  *t 


solved  pleasantly  enough  in  Canada.  Is  it  becauso 
the  Celt  cainiot  brook  equality  ;  and  where  he  has 
not  an  established  and  recognized  caste  above  him, 
longs  to  trample  on  those  about  him ;  and  if  he  can- 
not be  lowest,  will  at  least  be  highest  ? 

However,  our  friends  did  not  suffer  this  or  any 
other  advantage  of  the  colonial  relation  to  divert 
them  from  the  opinion  to  which  their  observation 
was  gradually  bringing  them,  —  that  its  overween- 
ing loyalty  placed  a  great  country  like  Canada  in  a 
very  silly  attitude,  the  attitude  of  an  overgrown, 
unmanly  boy,  clinging  to  the  maternal  skirts,  and 
though  spoilt  and  willful,  without  any  character  of 
his  own.  The  constant  reference  of  local  hopes  to 
that  remote  centre  bej'^ond  seas,  the  test  of  suc- 
cess by  the  criterions  of  a  necessarily  different  civil- 
ization, the  social  and  intellectual  dependence  im- 
plied by  traits  that  meet  the  most  hurried  glance  in 
the  Dominion,  give  an  effect  of  meanness  to  the 
whole  fabric.  Doubtless  it  is  a  life  of  comfort,  of 
peace,  of  irresponsibility  they  live  there,  but  it  lacks 
the  grandeur  which  no  sum  of  material  prosperity 
can  give  ;  it  is  ignoble,  like  all  voluntarily  subor- 
dinate things.  Somehow,  one  feels  that  it  has  no 
basis  in  the  New  World,  and  that  till  it  is  shaken 
loose  from  England  it  cannot  have. 

It  would  be  a  pity,  however,  if  it  should  be 
parted  from  the  parent  country  merely  to  be  joined 
to  an  unsympathetic  half-brother  like  ourselves ; 
and  nothing,  fortunately,  seems  to  be  fm*ther  from 


THE   SKNTIMENT   OF   AlONTRKAL. 


210 


the  Canadian  mind.  There  are  some  ex  peri  men  ts 
no  longer  possible  to  us  which  could  still  be  tried 
there  to  the  advantage  of  civilization,  and  we  were 
better  two  great  nations  side  by  side  than  a  union 
of  discordant  tniditions  and  ideas.  IJut  none  the 
less  does  the  American  traveller,  swelling  with  for- 
getfulness  of  the  shabby  despots  who  govern  New 
York,  and  the  swindling  railroad  kings  whose  word 
i«  law  to  the  whole  land,  feel  like  saying  to  the 
hulking  young  giant  beyond  St.  Lawrence  and  the 
Lakes,  "  Sever  the  apron-strings  of  allegiance,  and 
try  to  be  yourself  whatever  you  are." 

Something  of  this  sort  Basil  said,  though  of 
course  not  in  apostrophic  phrase,  nor  with  Isabel's 
entire  concurrence,  when  he  explained  to  her  that 
it  was  to  the  colonial  dependence  of  Canada  she 
owed  the  ability  to  buy  things  so  chea})ly  there. 

The  fact  is  that  the  ladies'  parlor  at  the  hotel 
had  been  after  dinner  no  better  than  a  den  of  snuig- 
glers,  in  which  the  fair  contrabandists  had  debated 
the  best  means  of  evading  the  laws  of  their  country. 
At  heart  every  man  is  a  smuggler,  and  how  much 
more  every  woman  !  She  would  have  no  scru[)le  in 
ruining  the  silk  and  woolen  interest  throughout  the 
United  States.  She  is  a  free-trader  by  intuitive 
perception  of  right,  and  is  limited  in  ])ractice  by 
nothing  but  fear  of  the  statute.  What  could  be 
taken  into  the  States  without  detection,  was  the 
subject  before  that  wicked  conclave ;  and  next, 
what  it  would  pay  to  buy  in  Canada.     It  seemed 


1        '' 


I 


220 


TIIKIK    WKDDINO   JOURNKY. 


tlijit  ailk  unilnvlhis  were  most  oligiblo  waros ;  and 
in  tln^  (llsplsiy  of  sut'li  purchases  tijc  ])arl()r  was 
given  the  appearance  of  a  violent  tlunuKT-Htonn. 
(iU)ves  it  was  not  advisabU;  to  get  ;  they  were  bet- 
ter at  home,  as  were  many  kinds  of  hne  woolen 
goods.  IJut  hices,  wiiicii  you  couhl  carry  about  you, 
were  excellent ;  and  so  was  any  kind  of  silk.  Could 
it  be  carried  if  simply  cut,  and  not  nuide  up  ?  There 
Mas  a  dill'erence  about  this  :  the  friend  of  one  lady 
had  taken  home  half  a  trunkful  of  cut  silks  ;  the 
friend  of  another  luul  ''run  up  the  breadths  "  of  one 
lone  little  silk  skirt,  and  then  lost  it  by  the  rapacity 
of  the  customs  oHicers.  It  was  pretty  nnu'h  luck, 
and  whether  the  oflicers  happened  to  be  in  good- 
humor  or  not.  You  must  not  try  to  takci  in  any- 
thing out  of  season,  however.  One  had  heard  of  a 
lioston  lady  going  home  in  July,  who  ''  had  the  furs 
taken  off  her  back,"  in  that  inclement  month.  Best 
get  everything  seasonable,  and  put  it  on  at  once. 
*'  And  then,  you  know,  if  they  ask  you,  you  can  say 
it 's  been  worn."  To  this  black  wisdom  came  the 
combined  knowledge  of  those  miscreants.  Basil 
could  not  repress  a  shudder  at  the  innate  depravity 
of  the  female  heart.  Here  were  virgins  nurtured  in 
the  most  spotless  purity  of  life,  here  were  virtuous 
mothers  of  families,  here  were  venerable  matrons, 
patterns  in  society  and  the  church,  —  smugglers  to 
a  woman,  and  eager  for  any  guilty  subterfuge  !  He 
glanced  at  Isabel  to  see  what  effect  the  evil  conver- 
sation  had   upon   her.      Her   eyes  sparkled;    her 


TIIK   SKXriMKNT    OF   MONI'UKAL. 


221 


chooka  {flowed  ;  all  tlio  woman  was  on  fir«  for 
snmgj^linj^.  IIo  sij^lu'd  lu'avily  and  wen^  out  with 
her  to  do  tlu^  little  shoppin*^. 

Shiill  I  follow  tlit;ni  upon  tlu^ir  excursion  ? 
Shopping;  in  Montreal  is  very  inuc^li  what  it  is  in 
lioston  or  N(nv  York,  I  iniaj^ine,  except  that  the 
clerks  have  a  more  lioneyed  sweetness  of  manners 
towards  the  ladies  of  our  nation,  and  an?  surpris- 
in«^ly  i^eni'rous  constructionists  of  our  revenue  laws. 
Isabel  had  profited  hy  eviuy  word  that  she  had 
heard  in  the  ladies'  parlor,  and  slu;  would  not  ven- 
ture upon  unsafe  ground  ;  hut  lusr  tender  eyes 
looked  her  unutterable  lonmuir  to  believe  in  the 
charming  possibilities  that  the  chu'ks  suggested. 
She  bemoaned  herself  before  the  corded  silks,  which 
there  was  no  time  to  have  mside  up  ;  the  piece- 
velvets  and  the  linens  smote  her  to  the  heart. 
Ikit  they  also  stimulated  her  invention,  and  she 
bought  and  bought  of  the  made-up  wares  in  real 
or  fancied  needs,  till  Basil  represented  that  neither 
their  purses  nor  their  trunks  could  stand  any  more. 
•'  O,  don't  be  troubled  about  the  trunks,  dearest," 
she  cried,  with  that  gayety  which  nothing  but 
shopping  can  kindle  in  a  woman's  heart ;  wliihi  he 
faltered  on  from  counter  to  counter,  wondering  at 
which  he  should  finally  swoon  from  fatigue.  At 
last,  after  she  had  declared  repeatedly,  "  There, 
now  I  am  done,"  she  briskly  led  the  way  back  to 
the  hotel  to  pack  up  her  purchases. 

Basil  parted  with  her  at  the  door.     He  was  a 


m 


009 


THEIR   WEDDIKG   JOURNEY. 


11^    ii 


1      f 


mfin  of  high  principle  liimself,  and  that  scene  in 
tlie  smugglers'  den^  and  his  wife's  preparation  for 
transgression,  were  revelations  for  which  nothing 
could  have  consoled  him  but  a  paragon  unihreila 
for  five  dollars,  and  an  excellent  business  suit  of 
Scoti;h  goods  for  twenty. 

When  some  hours  later  he  sat  with  Isabel  on  the 
forwaril  promenade  of  the  steamboat  for  Quebec, 
and  summed  up  the  profits  of  their  shoj)ping,  they 
were  both  in  the  kindliest  mood  towards  the  poor 
Canadians,  who  had  built  the  admirable  city  before 
them. 

For  miles  the  water  front  of  Montreal  is  superbly 
faced  with  quays  and  locks  of  solid  stone  masonry, 
and  thus  she  is  clean  and  beautiful  to  the  very  feet. 
Stately  piles  of  architecture,  instead  of  the  foul  old 
tumble-down  warehouses  that  dishonor  the  water- 
side in  most  cities,  rise  from  the  broad  wharves  ; 
behind  these  spring  the  twin  towers  of  Notre  Dame, 
and  the  steeples  of  the  other  churches  above  the 
city  roofs. 

"  It's  noble,  yes,  it's  noble,  after  the  best  that 
Europe  can  show,"  said  Isabel,  with  enthusiasm  ; 
"  and  what  a  pleasant  day  we've  had  here ! 
Doesn't  even  our  quarrel  show  eouleur  de  rose  in 
this  light  ?  " 

"  One  side  of  it,"  answered  Basil,  dreamily, 
"  but  all  the  rest  is  black." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  my  dear  ?  ' 

"  Why,  the  Nelson  Monument,  with  the  sunset 
on  it,  at  the  head  of  the  straet  tlisre." 


THE   SENTIMENT    OF  MONTREAL. 


223 


The  effect  was  so  fine  that  Isabel  could  not  l^ 
angry  with  him  for  failing  to  heed  what  she  had 
said,  and  she  mused  a  moment  w4th  him. 

"  It  seems  rather  far-fetched,"  she  said  presently, 
"to  erect  a  monument  to  Nelson  in  Montreal, 
doesn't  it  ?  But  then,  it 's  a  very  absurd  monu- 
ment when  you're  near  it,"  she  added,  thought- 
fully. 

Basil  did  not  answer  at  once,  for  gazing  on  this 
Nelson  column  in  Jacques  Cartier  Square,  his 
thoughts  wandered  away,  not  to  the  hero  of  the 
Nile,  but  to  the  doughty  old  Breton  navigator,  the 
first  white  man  who  ever  set  foot  upon  tluit  shore, 
and  who  more  than  three  hundred  years  ago 
explored  the  St.  Lawrence  as  far  as  Montreal,  and 
in  the  splendid  autumn  weather  climbed  to  the  top 
of  her  green  height  and  named  it.  The  scene  that 
Jacques  Cartier  then  beheld,  like  a  mirage  of  the 
past  projected  upon  the  present,  floated  before  liim, 
and  he  saw  at  the  mountain's  foot  the  Indian  city 
of  Ilochelaga,  with  its  vast  and  populous  lodges  of 
bark,  its  encircling  palisades,  and  its  wide  outlying 
fields  of  yellow  maize.  He  heard  with  Jacques 
Cartier's  sense  the  blare  of  his  followers'  trumpets 
down  in  the  open  square  of  the  barbarous  city, 
where  the  soldiers  of  many  an  Old-World  fight, 
"  with  mustached  lip  and  bearded  chin,  with  arque- 
buse  and  glittering  halberd,  helmet,  and  cuirass," 
moved  among  the  plumed  and  painted  savages ; 
then  he  lifted  Jacques  Cartier's  eyes,  and  looked 


f  III 


224 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


out  upon  the  magnificent  landscape.  "  East,  west, 
and  nortli,  the  mantling  forest  was  over  all,  and 
the  broad  blue  ribbon  of  the  great  river  glistened 
amid  a  realm  of  verdure.  Beyond,  to  the  bounds 
of  Mexico,  stretched  a  leafy  desert,  and  the  vast 
hive  of  industry,  the  mighty  battle-ground  of  later 
centuries,  lay  sunk  in  savage  torpor,  wrapped  in 
illimitable  woods." 

A  vaguer  picture  of  Champlain,  who,  seeking 
a  Avestward  route  to  China  and  the  East,  some 
three  quarters  of  a  century  later,  had  fixed  tiie  first 
trading-post  at  Montreal,  and  camped  upon  the 
spot  Avhere  the  convent  of  the  Gray  Nuns  now 
stands,  appeared  before  him,  and  vanished  with  all 
its  fleets  of  fur-traders'  boats  and  hunters'  birch 
canoes,  and  the  watch-fires  of  both ;  and  then  in 
the  sweet  light  of  the  spring  morning,  he  saw 
Maisonneuve  leaping  ashore  upon  the  green  mead- 
ows, th'at  spread  all  gay  with  early  flowers  where 
Hochelaga  once  stood,  and  Avith  the  black-robed 
Jesuits,  the  high-born,  delicately  nurtured,  and 
devoted  nuns,  and  the  steel-clad  soldiers  of  his  train, 
kneeling  about  the  altar  raised  there  in  the  wilder- 
ness, and  silent  amidst  the  silence  of  nature  at  the 
lifted  Host. 

He  painted  a  semblance  of  all  this  for  Isabel, 
using  the  colors  of  the  historian  who  has  made 
these  scenes  the  beautiful  inheritance  of  all  dream- 
ers, and  sketched  the  battles,  the  miracles,  the  suf- 
ferings, and  the  penances  through  which  the  pious 


Tin:    SENTIMKNT    OF    -MOXTRKAL. 


225 


est, 

and 

sned 

mds 

vast 

later 

id  in 

;king 

some 

J  first 

1  the 

i  now 

X\\  all 

birch 

len  in 
saw 
lead- 

where 

obed 

and 

train, 

ilder- 

at  tlie 


-r( 


\v 


Isabel, 
made 
dream- 
;he  suf- 
le  pious 


colony  was  preserved  and  prospered,  till  they  both 
grew  impatient  of  modern  ^lontreal,  and  would 
fain  have  had  the  ancient  Villemarie  back  in  its 
place. 

"  Think  of  Maisonneuve,  dearest,  climbing  in 
midwinter  to  the  top  of  the  mountain  there,  under 
a  heavy  cross  set  with  the  bones  of  saints,  and 
planting  it  on  the  summit,  in  fulfillment  of  a  vow 
to  do  so  if  X'^illemarie  were  saved  from  the  freshet ; 
and  then  of  Madame  de  la  Peltrie  romantically 
receiving  the  sacrament  there,  while  all  Villemarie 
fell  down  adoring  I  Ah,  that  was  a  picturesque 
people !  Wiien  did  ever  a  Boston  governor  climb 
to  the  top  of  Beacon  hill  in  fulfillment  of  a  vow  ? 
To  be  sure,  we  may  yet  see  a  New  York  governor 
doing  something  of  the  kind  —  if  he  can  find  a  hill. 
But  this  ridiculous  column  to  Nelson,  who  never 
had  anvthinu:  to  do  with  Montreal,"  he  continued  ; 
it  really  seems  to  me  the  perfect  expression  of  snob- 
bish colonial  dependence  and  sentimentality,  seek- 
ing always  to  identify  itself  with  the  mother- 
country,  and  ignoring  the  local  past  and  its  heroic 
figures.  A  column  to  Nelson  in  Jacques  Cartier 
Square,  on  the  ground  that  was  trodden  by  Cham- 
plain,  and  won  for  its  present  masters  by  the  death 
of  Wolfe  ! " 

The  boat  departed  on  her  trip  to  Quebec.  Dur- 
ing supper  tliey  were  served  by  French  waiters, 
who,  without  apparent  English  of  their  own,  mirac- 
ulously understood  that  of  the  passengers,  except 


w 


'\ 


22i5 


TIIKIR   \Vi:[>I)lX(l   .lOUltNKV. 


II 


in  the  case  of  tlie  furious  gentlemtin  wlio  wanted 
Enj^lisli  breakfast  tea ;  to  so  much  Euglish  as  that 
their  insi)iration  did  not  reacli,  and  thev  forced  him 
to  compromise  on  coli'ee.  It  was  a  French  boat, 
owned  by  a  French  company,  and  seemed  to  be 
officered  by  Frenchmen  tliroughout ;  certainly,  as 
our  tourists  in  tlie  joy  of  their  good  a|)petites 
affirmed,  the  cook  was  of  that  culinarily  delightful 
nati<m. 

The  boat  was  almost  .as  large  as  those  of  the 
Hudson,  but  it  was  not  so  lavishly  splendid,  though 
it  had  everything  thatcouUl  minister  to  the  comfort 
and  self-respect  of  the  ])assengers.  These  were  of 
all  nations,  but  chiefly  Americans,  with  some 
French  Canadians.  The  former  gathered  on  the 
forward  promenade,  enjoying  what  little  of  the 
landscaj)e  the  growing  night  left  visible,  and  the 
latter  made  society  after  their  manner  in  the  sa- 
loon. They  were  plain-looking  men  and  women, 
mostly,  and  provincial,  it  was  evident,  to  their  in- 
most hearts  ;  provincial  in  origin,  provincial  by  in- 
heritance, by  all  their  circumstances,  social  and 
political.  Their  relation  with  France  was  not  a 
proud  one,  but  it  was  not  like  submersion  by  the 
slip-slop  of  English  colonial  loyalty  ;  yet  they  seem 
to  be  troubled  by  no  memories  of  their  hundred 
years'  dominion  of  the  land  that  they  rescued  from 
the  wilderness,  and  that  was  Avi'ested  from  them  by 
war.  It  is  a  strange  fate  for  any  people  thus  to 
have  been   cut  oft"  from  the  parent-country,  and 


§ 


THK   SKNTIMI'NT   OF   MONTREAL. 


227 


as 


abandoned  to  whatever  destiny  their  conquerors 
chose  to  reserve  for  them ;  and  if  each  of  the  race 
wore  the  sadness  and  strangeness  of  tliat  fate  in  his 
countenance  it  would  not  be  wonderful.  Perhaps  it 
is  wonderful  that  none  of  them  shows  anytliing  of 
the  kind.  In  their  desertion  they  have  multiplied 
and  prospered  ;  they  may  have  a  national  gi'ief,  but 
they  hide  it  well ;  and  probably  they  have  none. 

Later,  one  of  them  appeared  to  Isabel  in  the  per- 
son of  the  pale,  slender  young  ecclesiastic  who  had 
shown  her  and  Basil  the  pictures  in  the  country 
church.  She  was  confessing  to  the  priest,  and  she 
was  not  at  all  surprised  to  find  that  he  was  Basil 
in  a  suit  of  medi;eval  armor.  He  had  an  immense 
cross  on  his  slioulder. 

'*  To  get  this  cross  to  the  top  of  the  mountain," 
thought  Isabel,  "  we  must  have  two  horses.  Basil,"* 
she  added,  aloud,  *■'  we  must  have  two  horses  !  " 

"  'I'en,  if  you  like,  my  dear,"  answered  his  voice, 
cheerfully,  '■'•  though  I  think  we'd  better  ride  up  in 
the  omnibus." 

She  opened  her  eyes,  and  saw  him  smiling. 
"  We're  in  sight  of  Quebec,"  liQ  said.  *'  Come 
out  as  soon  as  you  can,  —  come  out  into  the  seven- 
teeutli  century." 


m 


11 

Hi 


t'\ 


m 


i' 

H  », 


'  !!!    ■! 


!i  11 


n 


TX. 


IsAHEL  Imrrietl 
out  upon  tln^  for- 
ward proiiu'iisule, 
where  all  tlie 
otlier  passengers 
seemed  to  be  as- 
sembled, and  be- 
held a  vast  bulk 
of  gray  and  ])iu- 
ple  rock,  swell- 
ing two  hundred 
feet  up  from  the 
mists  of  the 
river,  and  taking 
the  early  morn- 
ing light  warm 
'~'-"^'^--^'-  upon  its  face  and 

crown.  Jilack-hulked,  rod-(*himneyed  Liverpool 
steamers,  gay  river-craft  and  ships  of  every  sail  and 
flag,  fillt'd  the  stream  athwart  which  the  ferries 
sped  their  swift  traffic-laden  shuttles ;  a  lower  town 
clung  to  the  foot  of  the  rock,  and  crept,  populous 
and  picturesque,  up  its  sides ;  from  the  massive  cit- 


-Bj* 


i*^^^<^ 


QUEBEC. 


229 


ivried 
t^  for- 
■iv.ule, 
the 

be  as- 
lul  be- 
t  bulk 
(\  puv- 

SNVell- 

lun(U-e(l 
in  tlie 

f    the 
tiiking 
morn- 
warm 

ace  and 
verpool 

Isail  and 

ferries 

er  town 

opnloua 

sive  cit- 


adel on  its  crest  flew  the  red  banner  of  Saint 
George,  and  along  its  brow  swept  the  gray  wall  of 
the  famous,  heroic,  beautiful  city,  overtopped  by 
many  a  gleaming  spire  and  antique  roof. 

Slowly  out  of  our  work-day,  business-suited,  mod- 
ern world  the  vessel  steamed  up  to  this  city  of  an 
olden  time  and  another  ideal, — to  her  who  was  a 
lady  from  the  first,  devout  and  proud  and  strong, 
and  ^^ho  still,  after  two  hundred  and  fifty  years, 
keeps  perfect  the  image  and  memory  of  the  feudal 
past  from  which  she  sprung.  Upon  her  height  she 
sits  unique ;  and  when  you  say  Quebec,  having 
once  beheld  her,  you  invoke  a  sense  of  medijBval 
strangeness  and  of  beauty  which  the  name  of  no 
other  city  could  intensify. 

As  they  drew  near  the  steamboat  wharf  they 
saw,  swarming  over  a  broad  square,  a  market  be- 
side which  the  Bonsecours  Market  would  have 
shown  as  common  as  the  Quincy,  and  up  the  odd 
wooden  -  side- 
walked  street 
stretched  an 
aisle  of  car- 
riages  and 
those  high 
swung  calash- 
es, wliich  are  _-^^^ 
to  Quebec - 
what  the  gon- 
dolas   are    to 


r 


fm 


'U 


230 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


Venice.  But  the  hand  of  destiny  was  upon  our 
tourists,  and  they  rode  up  to^vn  in  an  omnibus. 
They  -were  going  to  the  dear  old  Hotel  Musty  in 

Street,  wanting  which   Quebec  is  not  to  be 

thouglit  of  without  a  pang.  It  is  now  closed,  and 
Prescott  Gate,  through  which  they  drove  into  the 
Upper  Town,  has  been  demolished  since  the  sum- 
mer of  last  year.  Swiftly  whirled  along  the  steep 
winding  road,  by  those  Quebec  horses  Avliich  expect 
to  gallop  up  hill  whatever  they  do  going  down, 
they  turned  a  corner  of  the  towering  weed-groAvn 
rock,  and  shot  in  under  the  low  arch  of  the  gate, 
pierced  with  smaller  doorways  for  the  foot-passen- 
gers. The  gloomy  masonry  dripped  with  damp, 
the  doors  were  thickly  studded  with  heavy  iron 
spikes  ;  old  cannon,  thrust  endwise  into  the  ground 
at  the  sides  of  the  gate,  protected  it  against  pass- 
ing wheels.  Why  did  not  some  semi-forbidding 
commissary  of  police,  struggling  hard  to  overcome 
his  native  politeness,  appear  and  demand  their  pass- 
ports ?  The  illusion  was  otherwise  perfect,  and  it 
needed  but  this  touch.  How  often  in  the  adored 
Old  World,  which  we  so  love  and  disapprove,  had 
they  driven  in  through  such  gates  at  that  morning 
hour  I  On  what  perverse  pretext,  then,  was  it  not 
some  ancient  town  of  Normandy  ? 

"  Put  a  few  enterprising  Americans  in  here,  and 
they'd  soon  rattle  this  old  wall  down  and  let  in  a 
little  fresh  air !  "  said  a  patriotic  voice  at  Isabel's 
elbow,  and  continued  to  find  fault  with  the  narrow. 


QUKBKC. 


231 


irregular  streets,  the  luuliUing  g.ihles,  the  quaint 
roofs,  through  which  and  undor  whicli  they  drove 
on  to  the  hotel. 

As  tliey  (hislied  into  a  broad  open  square,  "  Here 
is  the  Frendi  Cathedral ;  tliere  is  the  U})per  Town 
Market ;  yonder  are  the  Jesuit  Barracks  !  "  cried 
Basil  ;  and  they  had  a  passing  gliuipse  of  gray 
stone  towers  at  one  side  of  the  square,  and  a  h)w, 
massive  yellow  building  at  the  other,  and,  between 
the  two,  long  ranks  of  carts,  and  fruit  and  vegetable 
stands,  protected  by  canvas  awnings  and  broad 
umbrellas.  Then  they  dashed  round  the  corner  of 
a  street,  and  drew  up  before  the  hotel  door.  The 
low  ceilings,  the  thick  walls,  the  clumsy  wood-work, 
the  wandering  corridors,  gave  the  hotel  all  the  de- 
sired character  of  age,  and  its  slovenly  state  be- 
stowed an  additional  charm.  In  another  place  they 
might  have  demanded  neatness,  but  in  Quebec  they 
would  almost  have  resented  it.  By  a  chance  they 
had  the  best  room  in  the  house,  but  they  held  it 
only  till  certain  people  who  had  engaged  it  by  tele- 
graph should  arrive  in  the  hourly  expected  steamer 
from  Liverpool  ;  and,  moreover,  the  best  room  at 
Hotel  Musty  was  consolingly  bad.  The  house 
was  very  full,  and  the  Ellisons  (who  had  come  on 
with  them  from  Montreal)  were  bestowed  in  less 
state  only  on  like  conditions. 

The  travellers  all  met  at  breakfast,  which  was 
admirably  cooked,  and  well  served,  with  the  attend- 
ance of  those  swarms  of  flies  whicli  infest  Quebec, 


IT' 


• 


ll>liltlMfil»|IIHll»MI 


i 


n 


:l   J 


I  tl 
■   tl 


232 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


and  especially  infested  the  old  ISIusty  House,  in 
summer.  It  had,  of  course,  the  attraction  of  broiled 
salmon,  upon  which  the  traveller  breakfasts  every 
day  as  long  as  he  remains  in  Lower  Canada  ;  and 
it  rej)resented  the  abundance  of  wild  berries  in  the 
Quebec  market ;  and  it  was  otherwise  a  breakfast 
worthy  of  the  appetites  that  honored  it. 

'J'hei-e  were  not  many  other  Americans  besides 
themselves  at  this  hotel,  which  seemed,  indeed,  to 
be  kept  open  to  oblige  such  travellers  as  had  been 
there  before,  and  could  not  persuade  themselves  to 
try  the  new  Hotel  St.  Louis,  whither  the  vastly 
greater  number  resorted.  Most  of  the  faces  our 
tourists  saw  were  English  or  English-Canadian,  and 
the  young  people  from  Onuiha,  who  had  got  here 
by  some  chance,  were  scarcely  in  harmony  with  the 
place.  They  appeared  to  be  a  bridal  party,  but 
which  of  the  two  sisters,  in  buff  linen  clad  from 
head  to  foot,  was  the  bride,  never  became  kno^vn. 
Both  were  equally  free  with  the  husband,  and  he 
was  impartially  fond  of  both :  it  was  quite  a  family 
affair. 

For  a  moment  Isabel  har-bored  the  desire  to  see 
the  city  in  company  with  Miss  Ellison  ;  but  it  was 
only  a  passing  weakness.  She  remembered  directly 
the  coolness  between  friends  which  she  had  seen 
caused  by  objects  of  interest  in  Europe,  and  she 
wisely  deferred  a  more  intimate  acquaintance  till  it 
coulil  have  a  purely  social  basis.  After  all,  nothing 
is  so  tiresome  as  continual  exchange  of  sympathy, 


QUEBEC. 


233 


or  so  apt  to  end  in  niutuiil  dislike,  —  except  grati- 
tude. So  the  ladies  ])arted  friends  till  dinner,  and 
drove  off  in  se})arate  carriages. 

As  in  other  show  cities,  tliere  is  a  routine  at 
Quebec  for  travellers  Avho  come  on  Saturday  and  go 
on  Monday,  and  few  depart  from  it.  Our  friends 
necessarily,  therefore,  drove  first  to  the  citadel.  It 
was  raining  one  of  those  cold  rains  by  Avhich  the 
scarce-banished  winter  reminds  the  Canadian  field? 
of  his  nearness  even  in  midsunnner,  though  between 
the  bitter  showers  the  air  was  sultry  and  close  ; 
and  it  was  just  the  light  in  which  to  see  the  grim 
strength  of  the  fortress  next  strongest  to  Gibraltar 
in  the  world.  They  passed  a  heavy  iron  gateway, 
and  up  through  a  winding  lane  of  masonry  to  the 
gate  of  the  citadel,  where  they  were  delivered  into 
the  care  of  Private  Josej)h  Drakes,  who  was  to 
show  them  such  j)arts  of  the  place  as  are  open  to 
cariosity.  But,  a  citadel  which  has  never  stood  a 
siege,  or  been  threatened  by  any  danger  more  seri- 
ous than  Fenianism,  soon  becomes,  however  strong, 
but  a  dull  piece  of  masonry  to  the  civilian  ;  and  our 
tourists  more  rejoiced  in  the  crumbling  fragment  of 
the  old  French  wall  which  the  English  destroyed 
than  in  all  they  had  built ;  and  they  valued  the  lat- 
ter work  chiefly  for  the  glorious  prospects  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  and  its  mighty  valleys  which  it  com- 
manded. Advanced  into  the  centre  of  an  amj)hi- 
theatre  inconceivably  vast,  that  enormous  beak  of 
rock  overlooks  the  narrow  angle  of  the  river,  and 


r''f^ 


234 


THKIR   WKDIJINU    JOUKNKV. 


then,  in  every  direction,  immeasuriible  stretches  of 
gardened  vale,  and  woodt^d  upUind,  till  all  'nelts 
into  the  purple  of  the  eneireling  mountains.  Far 
and  near  are  lovely  white  villages  nestli.g  under 
elms,  in   the   heart  of   fields   and   niead(  and 

evei-ywhere  the  long,  narrow,  accurately  divided 
farms  stretch  downward  to  the  river-shores.  The 
best  roads  on  the  continent  make  this  beauty  and 
richness  accessible ;  each  little  village  boasts  some 
natural  wonder  in  stream,  or  lake,  or  cataract :  and 
this  landscape,  magnificent  beyond  any  in  east- 
ern America,  is  historical  and  interesting  beyond 
all  others.  Hither  came  Jacques  Cartier  three 
lumdred  and  fifty  years  ago,  and  wintered  on  the 
low  point  there  by  the  St.  Charles  ;  here,  nearly  a 
century  after,  but  still  fourteen  years  '  )re  the 
landing  at  Plymouth,  Champlain  found*.,  ne  mis- 
sionary city  of  Quebec  ;  round  this  rocky  beak  came 
sailing  the  half-piratical  armament  of  the  Calvinist 
Kirks  in  1629,  and  seized  Quebec  in  the  interest  of 
the  English,  holding  it  three  years ;  in  the  Lower 
Town,  yonder,  first  landed  the  coldly  welcomed 
Jesuits,  who  came  with  the  returning  French  and 
made  Quebec  forever  eloquent  of  their  zeal,  their 
guile,  their  heroism  ;  at  the  foot  of  this  rock  lay 
the  fleet  of  Sir  William  Phipps,  governor  of  Massa- 
chusetts, and  vainly  assailed  it  in  1608  ;  in  1759 
came  Wolfe  and  embattled  all  the  region,  on  river 
and  land,  till  at  last  the  bravely  defended  city  fell 
into  liis  iying  hand  on  the  Plains  of   Abraham  j 


QUKRKC. 


235 


here  IMontgotnery  laid  i\o\v\\  liis  lifo  at  tlj(»  lu'ad  of 
the  boldest  and  most  hopeless  effort  of  our  War  of 
Independence. 

Private  Joseph  Drakes,  with  the  genorosity  of  an 
enemy  expecting  drink-money,  pointed  out  tiie  sign- 
board on  the  face  of  the  cray:  commemoratinuj 
Montgomery's  death ;  and  then  showed  them  the 
officers'  qujirters  and  those  of  the  common  soldiers, 
not  far  from  which  was  a  line  of  hang-dog  fellows 
drawn  up  to  receive  sentence  for  divers  small  mis- 
demeanors, from  an  officer  whose  blond  whiskers 
drooped  Dundrearily  from  his  fresh  English  cheeks. 
There  was  that  immense  difference  between  him  and 
the  men  in  physical  grandeur  and  beauty,  which  is 
so  notable  in  the  aristocratically  ordered  military 
services  of  Europe,  and  which  makes  the  rank  seem 
of  another  race  from  the  file.  Private  Drakes 
saluted  his  s'  perior,  and  visibly  deteriorated  in  his 
presence,  though  his  bi*east  was  covered  with  medals, 
and  he  had  fought  England's  battles  in  every  part 
of  the  world.  It  was  a  gross  injustice,  the  triumph 
of  a  thousand  years  of  wrong  ;  and  it  was  touching 
to  have  Private  Drakes  say  that  he  expected  in  three 
months  to  begin  life  for  himself,  after  twenty  years' 
service  of  the  Queen ;  and  did  they  think  he  could 
get  anything  to  do  in  the  States?  He  scjircely 
knew  what  he  was  fit  for,  but  he  thonght  —  to  so 
little  in  him  came  the  victories  he  had  helped  to 
win  in  the  Crimea,  in  China,  and  in  India  —  that 
he  could  take  care  of  a  gentleman's  horse  and  work 


if 


1 

I 


23fi 


THi:iU   WKDDIXG  JOURNEY. 


about  his  place.  He  looked  inquiringly  at  Basil,  as 
if  he  might  be  a  gentleman  with  a  horse  to  be  taken 
care  of  and  a  })lace  to  be  worked  about,  and  made 
hi  Ml  regret  that  he  was  not  a  man  of  substance 
enough  to  provide  for  Private  Drakes  and  Mrs. 
Diakes  and  the  brood  of  Ducklings,  who  had  been 
sh^  ii  to  him  stowed  away  in  one  of  those  cavernous 
rooms  in  the  earthworks  where  the  married  soldiers 


have  their  quarters.  His  regret  enriched  the  re- 
ward of  Private  Drakes'  service,  —  which  perhaps ' 
answered  one  of  Private  Drakes'  purposes,  if  not 
his  chief  aim.  He  j)romi8ed  to  come  to  the  States 
upon  the  pressing  advice  of  Isabel,  who,  speaking 
from  her  own  large  experience,  declared  that  every- 
body got  on  there;   and  he  bade  our  friends   an 


QUEBEC. 


237 


'/y^ 


^^ 


affe<3tionate   farewell   as  they   drove   away  to  the 
Plains  of  Abraham. 

The  fashionable  sirburban  cottages  and  places  of 
Quebec  are  on  the  St.  Louis  Road  leading  north- 
ward to  the  old  battle-ground  and  beyond  it ;  bu*" 
these  face  chiefly  towards  the  rivers  St.  Lawen3e 
and  St.  Charles,  and  lofty  hedge*  and  shrubbery 
hide  them  in  an  English  seclusion  from  the  high- 
way ;  so  that  the  visitor  nuiy  uninterruptedly  med- 
itate whatever  emotion  he  will  for  the  scene  of 
Wolfe's  death  as  he  rides  along.  His  loftiest  emotion 
will  want  the  noble  height  of  that  heroic  soul,  who 
must  always  stand  forth  in  history  a  figure  of  beau- 
tiful and  singular  distinction,  admirable  alike  for  the 
sensibility  and  daring,  the  poetic  pensiveness,  and 
the  martial  ardor  that  mingled  in  him  and  taxed 
his  feeble  frame  with  tasks  greater  than  it  could 
bear.  The  whole  story  of  the  capture  of  Quebec  is 
full  of  romantic  splendor  and  pathos.  Her  fall 
was  a  triumph  for  all  the  English-speaking  race, 
and  to  us  Americans,  long  scourged  by  the  cruel 
Indian  wars  plotted  within  her  walls  or  sustained 
by  her  strength,  such  a  blessing  as  was  hailed  M'ith 
ringing  bells  and  blazing  bonfires  throughout  the 
Colonies ;  yet  now  we  cannot  tliink  witliout  pity  of 
the  hopes  extinguished  and  the  labors  brought  to 
naught  in  her  overthrow.  That  stiange  colony  of 
priests  and  soldiers,  of  martyrs  and  heroes,  of  which 
she  W!\°  the  capital,  willing  to  perish  for  an  alle- 
giance to  which  the  mother-country  was  indifVerent, 


'  ¥ 


238 


THF.IR   WEDDING  JOURNIIY. 


and  fighting  against  tlie  armies  with  which  England 
was  j)r(»pared  to  oiitnuniber  tlie  whole  Canadian 
p()I>ulati()n,  is  a  magnificent  spectacle  ;  and  Mont- 
cahn  laying  down  his  life  to  lose  Quebec  is  not  less 
affecting  than  Wolfe  dying  to  win  her.  The  heart 
opens  towards  the  soldier  who  recited,  on  the  eve  of 
his  costly  victory,  the  "  Eh'gy  in  a  Country  Church- 
yard," which  he  would  "  rather  have  written  than 
beat  the  French  to-morrow  ;  "  but  it  aches  for  the 
defeated  general,  who,  hurt  to  death,  answered, 
when  told  how  brief  his  time  was,  "  So  nnicli  the 
better  ;  then  I  shall  not  live  to  see  the  surrender  of 
Quebec." 

In  the  city  for  which  they  perished  their  fame 
hsis  never  been  divided.  The  English  have  sho^vn 
themselves  very  generous  victors  ;  perhaps  nothing 
could  be  alleged  against  them,  but  that  they  were 
victors.  A  shaft  common  to  Wolfe  and  Montcalm 
celebrates  them  both  in  the  Governor's  Garden  ; 
and  in  the  Chapel  of  the  Ursuline  Convent  l.  tablet 
is  placed,  where  Montcalm  died,  by  the  same  con- 
querors who  raised  to  Wolfe's  memory  the  column 
on  the  battle-field. 

A  dismal  prison  covers  the  ground  where  the 
hero  fell,  and  the  monument  stands  on  the  spot 
where  Wolfe  breathed  his  last,  on  ground  lower 
than  the  rest  of  the  field  ;  the  friendly  hollow  that 
sheltered  him  from  the  fire  of  the  French  dwarfs  his 
monument ;  yet  it  is  sufficient,  and  the  simple  in- 
scription, "  Here  died  Wolfe  victorious,"  gives  it  a 


QUEBEC. 


239 


J  his 
in- 
it  a 


dignity  which  many  cubits  of  added  stature  could 
not  bestow.  Another  of  those  bitter  showers, 
which  liad  interspersed  the  morning's  sunsliine, 
drove  suddenly  across  the  open  plain,  and  our  tour- 
ists comfortably  sentimentalized  the  scene  behind 
the  cl()se-(h*awn  curtains  of  their  carriage.  Here  a 
whole  empire  liad  been  lost  and  won,  Basil  reminded 
Isabel;  and  she  said,  "Only  think  of  it!"  and 
looked  to  a  wandering  fold  of  her  skirt,  upon  which 
tlie  rain  beat  tlirough  a  rent  of  the  curtain. 

Do  I  pi  tell  the  pipe  too  low  ?  We  poor  honest 
men  are  at  a  sad  disadvantage ;  and  now  and  then 
I  am  minded  to  give  a  loose  to  fancy,  and  attribute 
something  really  grand  and  fine  to  my  people,  in 
order  to  make  them  worthier  the  reader's  respected 
acquaintance.  But  again,  I  forbid  myself  in  a 
higher  interest ;  and  I  am  afraid  that  even  if  I  were 
less  virtuous,  I  could  not  exalt  their  mood  upon  a 
battle-field  ;  for  of  all  things  of  the  past  a  battle 
is  the  least  conceivable.  I  have  heard  men  who 
fought  in  many  battles  say  that  the  recollection  was 
like  a  dream  to  them  ;  and  what  can  the  merely 
civilian  imagination  do  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham, 
with  the  fact  tliat  there,  more  than  a  century  ago, 
certain  thousands  of  Frenclnnen  marched  out,  on  a 
bright  September  morning,  to  kill  and  maim  as 
many  Englishmen  ?  This  gi'ound,  so  green  and 
soft  with  grass  beneath  the  feet,  was  it  once  torn 
with  shot  and  soaked  with  the  blood  of  men  ?  Did 
they   lie  here  in  ranks   and   heaps,  the   miserable 


r 


»:'        ' 


I' 


240 


THEIIi     WKDDIXG   JOUKXEY. 


I 


slain,  for  Avhom  tender  hearts  away  yonder  over  the 
sea  were  to  ache  and  break?  Did  the  wretches 
that  fell  wounded  stretch  themselves  here,  and 
writhe  beneath  the  feet  of  friend  and  foe,  or  crawl 
away  for  shelter  into  little  hollows,  and  behind 
bushes  and  fallen  trees  !  Did  he,  whose  soul  was  so 
full  of  noble  and  sublime  impulses,  die  here,  shot 
through  like  some  ravening  beast  ?  The  loathsome 
carnjige,  the  shrieks,  the  hellish  din  of  arms,  the 
cries  of  victory,  —  1  vainly  strive  to  conjure  up 
some  image  of  it  all  now  ;  and  God  be  thanked, 
horrible  spectre !  that,  fill  the  world  with  sorrow  jts 
thou  wilt,  thou  still  remainest  incredible  in  its 
moments  of  sanity  and  peace.  Least  credible  art 
thou  on  the  old  battle-fields,  where  the  mother 
of  the  race  denies  thee  Avith  breeze  and  sun  and 
leaf  and  bird,  and  every  blade  of  grass !  Tlie 
red  stain  in  Basil's  thought  yielded  to  the  rain 
sweeping  across  the  pasture-land  from  whicli  it  had 
long  since  faded,  and  the  words  on  the  monument, 
"  Here  died  Wolfe  victorious,"  did  not  proclaim  his 
bloody  triumph  over  the  French,  but  his  self-con- 
quest, his  victory  over  fear  and  pain  and  love  of  life. 
Alas  !  when  shall  the  poor,  blind,  stupid  world  honor 
those  who  renounce  self  in  the  joy  of  their  kind, 
equally  with  those  who  devote  themselves  through 
the  anguish  and  loss  of  thousands  ?  So  old  a  world, 
and  groping  still ! 

The  tourists  were  better  fitted  for  the  next  occa- 
sion of   sentiment,  which  was  at  the  Hotel  Dieu, 


! 


QUEBEC. 


241 


whither  they  went  after  returning  from  the  battle- 
field. It  took  all  the  mal-address  of  which  trav- 
ellers are  masters  to  secure  admittance,  and  it 
was  not  till  they  had  rung  various  wrong  bells, 
and  misunderstood  many  soft  nun-voices  s|3eaking 
French  through  grated  doors,  and  set  divers  sym- 
pathetic spectators  doing  ineffectual  services,  that 
they  at  last  found  the  proper  entrance,  and  were 
answered  in  English  that  the  porter  would  ask  if 
they  might  see  the  chapel.  They  hoped  to  find 
there  the  skull  of  Brebeuf,  one  of  those  Jesuit  mar- 
tyrs who  perished  long  ago  for  the  conversion  of  a 
race  that  has  perished,  and  whose  relics  they  ha«l 
come,  fresh  from  their  reading  of  Parkman,  with 
some  vague  and  patronizing  intention  to  revere. 
An  elderly  sister  with  a  pale,  kind  face  led  them 
through  a  ward  of  the  hospital  into  the  chapel, 
which  they  found  in  the  expected  taste,  and  ex- 
quisitely neat  and  cool,  but  lacking  the  martyr's 
skull.  They  asked  if  it  were  not  to  be  seen. 
"  Ah,  yes,  poor  Pere  Brebeuf !  "  sighed  the  gentle 
sister,  with  the  tone  and  manner  of  having  lost  him 
yesterday  ;  "  we  had  it  down  only  last  week,  show- 
ing it  to  some  Jesuit  fathers  ;  but  it 's  in  the  con- 
vent now,  and  isn't  to  be  seen."  And  there  min- 
gled a|)parently  in  her  regret  for  Pere  Brebeuf  a 
confusing  sense  of  his  actual  state  as  a  portable 
piece  of  furniture.  She  would  not  let  them  praise 
the  chapel.     It  was  very  clean,  yes,  but  there  wiis 

nothing  to  see  in  it.     She  deprecated  their  compli- 
16 


242 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


I      i 


ments  with  many  shrugs,  but  she  was  pleased  ;  for 
when  we  renounce  the  pomps  and  vanities  of  this 
workl,  we  are  pretty  sure  to  find  them  in  some 
other,  —  if  we  are  women.  She,  good  and  pure 
soul,  whose  whole  life  was  given  to  self-denying 
toil,  had  yet  something  angelically  coquettish  In 
her  manner,  a  spiritual-worldliness  which  was  the 
clarified  likeness  of  this-worldliness.  O,  had  they 
seen  the  HOtel  Dieu  at  Montreal  ?  Then  (with  a 
vivacious  wave  of  the  hands)  they  would  not  care 
to  look  at  this,  Avhich  by  comparison  was  nothing. 
Yet  she  invited  them  to  go  through  the  Avards  if 
they  would,  and  was  clearly  proud  to  have  them 
see  the  wonderful  cleanness  and  comfort  of  the 
place.  There  were  not  many  patients,  but  here 
and  there  a  wan  or  fevered  face  looked  at  them 
from  its  pillow,  or  a  weak  form  drooped  beside  a 
bed,  or  a  group  of  convalescents  softly  talked  to- 
gether. They  came  presently  to  the  last  hall,  at 
the  end  of  Avhicli  sat  another  nun,  beside  a  win- 
dow that  gave  a  view  of  the  busy  port,  and  beyond 
it  the  landscape  of  village-lit  plain  and  forest-dark- 
ened height.  On  a  table  at  her  elbow  stood  a 
rose-tree,  on  which  hung  two  only  pale  tea-roses, 
so  fair,  so  perfect,  that  Isabel  '^ried  out  in  wonder 
and  praise.  Ere  she  could  prevent  it,  the  nun,  to 
whom  there  had  been  some  sort  of  presentation, 
gathered  one  of  the  roses,  and  with  a  shy  grace 
offered  it  to  Isabel,  who  shrank  back  a  little  as 
from  too  costly  a  gift.     "  Take  it,"  said  the  first 


QUEBEC. 


243 


nun,  with  her  pretty  French  accent ;  while  the 
other,  who  spoke  no  English  at  all,  beamed  a 
placid  smile ;  and  Isabel  took  it.  The  flower,  ly- 
ing light  in  her  palm,  exhaled  a  delicate  odor,  and 


a  thrill  of  ex(iiiisite  compassion  for  it  trembled 
through  her  lieart,  as  if  it  had  been  the  white, 
cloistered  life  of  the  silent  nun :  Avith  its  pallid 
loveliness,  it  was  as  a  flower  that  had  taken  the 
veil.  It  could  never  have  uttered  the  burning 
passion  of  a  lover  for  his  mistress  ;  the  nightingale 
could  have  found  no  thorn  on  it  to  press  his  aching 


< 


i  i 


£44 


THEIR   WKDDING   JOURNEY. 


II 


poet's  heart  against ;  but  sick  and  weary  eyes  had 
dwelt  gratefully  upon  it ;  at  most  it  migiit  have 
ex|)res8ed,  like  a  prayer,  the  nun's  stainless  love  of 
some  favorite  saint  in  paradise.  Cold,  and  pale,  and 
sweet,  —  was  it  indeed  only  a  flower,  this  cloistered 
rose  of  the  HAtel  Dieu  ? 

"  Breathe  it,"  said  the  gentle  Gray  Sister ; 
"  sometimes  the  air  of  the  hospital  offends.  Not 
us,  no ;  we  are  used ;  but  you  come  from  the  out- 
side." And  she  gave  her  rose  for  this  humble  use 
as  lovingly  as  she  devoted  herself  to  her  lowly 
cares. 

*"•  It  is  very  little  to  see,"  she  said  at  the  end  ; 
"but  if  you  are  pleased,  I  am  very  glad.  Good- 
by,  good-by  !  "  She  stood  with  her  arms  folded, 
and  watched  them  out  of  sight  with  her  kind,  co- 
quettish little  smile,  and  then  the  mute,  blank  life 
of  the  nun  resumed  her. 

From  Hotel  Dieu  to  Hotel  Musty  it  was  but  a 
step  ;  both  were  in  the  same  street ;  but  our  friends 
fancied  themselves  to  have  come  an  immense  dis- 
tance when  they  sat  down  at  an  early  dinner,  amidst 
the  clash  of  crockery  and  cutlery,  and  looked  round 
upon  all  the  profane  travelling  world  assembled. 
Their  regard  presently  fixed  upon  one  company 
which  monopolized  a  whole  table,  and  were  defined 
from  the  other  diners  by  peculiarities  a,"  marked  as 
those  of  the  Soeurs  Grises  themselves.  There  were 
only  two  men  among  some  eight  or  ten  women ; 
one  of  the  former  had  a  bad  amiable  face,  with 


1 


QUEBEC. 


245 


idst 
und 

ed. 
.any 

ned 


eyes  full  of  a  merry  deviltry  ;  the  other,  clean- 
sliaven,  and  dark,  was  demure  and  silent  as  a  priest. 
The  ladies  were  of  various  types,  but  of  one  effect, 
with  large  rolling  eyes,  and  faces  that  somehow 
regarded  the  beholder  as  from  a  distance,  and  with 
an  impartial  feeling  for  him  as  for  an  element  of 
publicity.  One  of  them,  who  caressed  a  lapdog 
with  one  hand  while  she  served  herself  \vith  the 
other,  was,  as  she  seemed  to  believe,  a  blonde ;  she 
had  pale  blue  eyes,  and  her  hair  was  cut  in  front 
so  as  to  cover  her  forehead  with  a  straggling  sandy- 
colored  fringe.  She  had  an  English  look,  and  three 
or  four  others,  with  dark  complexion  and  black, 
unsteady  eyes,  and  various  abandon  of  back-hair, 
looked  like  Cockney  houris  of  Jewish  blood ;  while 
two  of  the  lovely  company  were  clearly  of  our  own 
nation,  as  was  the  young  man  with  the  reckless 
laughing  face.  The  ladies  were  dressed  and  jew- 
eled with  a  kind  of  broad  effectiveness,  which  was 
to  the  ordinary  style  of  society  what  scene-painting 
is  to  painting,  and  might  have  borne  close  inspec- 
tion no  better.  They  seemed  the  best-humored 
people  in  the  world,  and  on  the  kindliest  terms  with 
each  other.  The  waiters  shared  their  pleasant 
mood,  and  served  them  affectionately,  and  were 
now  and  then  invited  to  join  in  the  gay  talk  which 
babbled  on  over  dislocated  aspirates,  and  filled  the 
air  with  a  sentiment  of  vagabond  enjoyment,  of 
the  romantic  freedom  of  violated  convention,  of 
something  Gil  Bias-like,  almost  picaresque. 


ti 


246 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


If  they  had  needed  explanation  it  would  have 
been  given  by  the  announcement  in  the  office  of 
the  hotel  that  a  troupe  of  British  blondes  was  then 
appearing  in  Quebec  for  one  week  only. 

After  dinner  they  took  possession  of  the  parlor, 
and  while  one  strummed  fitfully  upon  the  ailing 
hotel  piano,  the  rest  talked,  and  talked  shop,  of 
course,  as  all  of  us  do  when  several  of  a  trade  are 
got  together. 

"  Wat,"  said  the  eldest  of  the  dark-faced,  black- 
haired  British  blondes  of  Jewish  race,  —  "  w'at  are 
we  going  to  give  at  Montrehal  ?  " 

"  We're  going  to  give  '  Pygmalion,'  at  Montre- 
hal," answered  the  British  blonde  of  American  birth, 
good-humoredly  burlesquing  the  erring  h  of  her  sis- 
ter. 

"  But  we  cahn't,  you  know,"  said  the  lady  with 
the  fringed  forehead ;  "  Hagnes  is  gone  on  to  New 
York,  and  there 's  nobody  to  do  Wenus." 

"Yes,  you  know,"  demanded  the  first  speaker 
"  00  's  to  do  Wenus  ? 

"  Bella 's  to  do  Wenus,"  said  a  third. 

There  was  an  outcry  at  this,  and  " 'Ow  ever 
would  she  get  herself  up  for  Wenus  ?  "  and  "  W'at 
a  guy  she'll  look  !  "  and  "  Nonsense  !  Bella  's  too 
'eavy  for  Wenus  !  "  came  from  different  lively  crit- 
ics ;  and  the  debate  threatened  to  become  too  inti- 
mate for  the  public  ear,  when  one  of  their  gentle- 
men came  in  and  said,  "  Charley  don't  seem  so 
well  this  afternoon."     On  this  the  chorus  changed 


quebp:c. 


247 


its  note,  and  at  the  proposal,  "  Poor  Charley,  let 's 
go  and  cheer  'im  hup  a  bit,"  the  whole  good-tem- 
pered company  trooped  out  of  the  parlor  togetlier. 

Our  tourists  meant  to  give  the  rest  of  tlie  after- 
noon to  that  sort  of  aimless  wanderinjj  to  and  fro 
about  the  streets  which  seizes  a  foreign  city  un- 
a\>}ires,  and  best  develops  its  charm  of  strange- 
ness. So  they  went  out  and  took  their  fill  of  Que- 
bec with  appetites  keen  through  long  fasting  from 
the  quaint  and  old,  and  only  sharpened  by  INIon- 
treal,  and  impartially  rejoiced  in  the  crooked 
up-and-down  hill  streets  ;  the  thoroughly  French 
domestic  architecture  of  a  place  that  thus  denied 
having  been  English  for  a  hundred  years ;  the 
porte-cochere B  beside  every  house  ;  the  French 
names  upon  the  doors,  and  the  oddity  of  the  bell- 
pulls  ;  the  rough-paved,  rattling  streets  ;  the  shin- 
ing roofs  of  tin,  and  the  universal  dormer-windows  ; 
the  littleness  of  the  private  houses,  and  the  great- 
ness of  the  high- walled  and  garden-girdled  con- 
vents ;  the  breadths  of  weather-stained  city  wall, 
and  the  shaggy  cliff  beneath ;  the  batteries,  with 
their  guns  peacefully  staring  through  loop-holes  of 
masonry,  and  the  red-coated  sergeants  flirting  with 
nursery-maids  upon  the  carriages,  while  the  chil- 
dren tumbled  about  over  the  pyramids  of  shot  and 
shell ;  the  sloping  market-place  before  the  cathe- 
dral, where  yet  some  remnant  of  the  morning's 
traffic  lingered  under  canvas  canopies,  and  where 
Isabel  bought  a  bouquet  of  marigolds  and  asters  of 


I 


:\\ 


h\ 


248 


THEIR  WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


an  old  woman  peasant  enough  to  have  sohl  it  in  any 
market-place  of  Europe  ;  tlie  small,  dark  shops  be- 
yond the  quarter  invaded  by  English  retail  trade  ; 
the  movement  of  all  the  strani^e  figures  of  cleric 
and  hiy  and  military  life ;  the  sound  of  a  foreign 
speecli  prevailing  over  the  English  ;  the  encounter 
of  other  tourists,  the  passage  back  and  forth  through 
the  different  city  gates  ;  the  public  wooden  stair- 
ways, dropping  flight  after  flight  from  the  Upper 
to  the  Lower  Town  ;  the  bustle  of  the  port,  with 
its  commerce  and  shipping  and  seafaring  life  hud- 
dled close  in  under  the  hill ;  the  many  desolate 
streets  of  the  Lower  Town,  as  black  and  ruinous  as 
the  last  great  fire  left  them  ;  and  the  marshy  mead- 
ows beyond,  memorable  of  RecoUets  and  Jesuits,  of 
Cartier  and  Montcalm. 

They  went  to  the  chapel  of  the  Seminary  at 
Laval  University,  and  admired  the  Le  Brun,  and 
the  other  paintings  of  less  merit,  but  equal  interest 
through  their  suggestion  of  a  whole  dim  religious 
world  of  paintings  ;  and  then  they  spent  half  an 
hour  in  the  cathedral,  not  so  much  in  looking  at  the 
Crucifixion  by  Vandyck  which  is  there,  as  in  re- 
veling amid  the  familiar  rococo  splendors  of  the 
temple.  Every  swaggering  statue  of  a  snint,  ev^ry 
rope-dancing  angel,  every  cherub  of  o  on 

the  carven  and  gilded  clouds  ii^      Itar 

float  — 

"  Like  little  wanton  boys  that  swim  on  1'  adders,"  — 

was  precious  to  them;  the  sacristan   dusting  the 


QUEDEC. 


249 


the 


sacred  proporties  with  a  feather  brush,  and  giving 
eacli  shrine  a  business-like  nod  as  he  passed,  was  as 
a  long-h)st  brother  ;  tliey  had  hearts  of  aggressive 
t(!nd.  rness  for  tlie  young  girls  and  old  women  who 
stepped  in  for  a  half-hour's  devotion,  and  for  the 
men  with  bourgeois  or  peasant  faces,  who  stole  a 
n^oinent  from  affairs  and  crops,  and  gave  it  to  the 
saaits.  There  was  nothing  in  the  place  that  need 
re  nind  them  of  Ameri«3a,  and  its  taste  was  exactly 
that  of  a  thousand  other  churches  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  They  could  easily  have  believed  them- 
selves in  the  farthest  (^atholic  South,  but  for  the 
two  great  porcelain  stoves  that  stood  on  either  side 
of  the  nave  near  the  entrance,  and  that  too  vividly 
reminded  them  of  the  possibility  of  cold. 

In  fact,  Quebec  is  a  little  painful  in  this  and 
other  confusions  of  the  South  and  North,  and  one 
never  quite  reconciles  himself  to  them.  The  French- 
men, who  expected  to  find  there  the  climate  of  their 
native  land,  and  ripen  her  wines  in  as  kindly  a  sun, 
have  perpetuated  the  image  of  home  in  so  many 
things,  that  it  goes  to  the  henrt  with  a  painful  emo- 
tion to  find  the  sad,  oblique  light  of  the  North  upon 
them.  As  you  ponder  some  characteristic  aspect  of 
Quebec,  —  a  bit  of  street  with  heavy  stone  houses, 
opening  upon  a  stretch  of  the  city  wall,  with  a 
Lombardy  poplar  rising  slim  against  it,  —  you  say, 
to  your  satisfied  soul,  "Yes,  it  is  the  real  thing  !  " 
and  then  all  at  once  a  sense  of  that  Northern 
sky  strikes  in  upon  you,  and  makes  the  reality  a 


^fl 


I    1 


250 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


mere  picture.  Tlie  sky  is  blue,  the  sun  is  often 
fiercely  hot ;  you  could  not  perhaps  prove  that  the 
pathetic  radiance  is  not  an  efflux  of  your  own  con- 
sciousness that  summer  is  but  hanging  over  the 
Lind,  briefly  poising  on  wings  which  flit  at  the  first 
dash  of  rain,  and  will  soon  vanish  in  long  retreat 
before  the  snow.  But  somehow,  from  without  or 
from  within,  that  light  of  the  North  is  there. 

It  lay  saddest,  our  travellers  thought,  upon  the 
little  circular  garden  near  Durham  Terrace,  where 
every  brightness  of  fall  flowers  abounded,  —  mari- 
gold, coxcomb,  snap-dragon,  dahlia,  hollyhock,  and 
sunflower.  It  was  a  substantial  and  hardy  efflores- 
cence, and  they  fancied  that  fainter-hearted  plants 
would  have  pined  away  in  that  garden,  where  the 
little  fountain,  leaping  up  into  the  joyless  light,  fell 
back  again  with  a  musical  shiver.  The  conscious- 
ness of  this  latent  cold,  of  winter  only  held  in  abey- 
ance by  the  bright  sun,  was  not  deeper  even  in  the 
once  magnificent,  now  neglected  Governor's  Garden, 
where  there  was  actually  a  rawness  in  the  late  af- 
ternoon air,  and  whither  they  were  strolling  for  the 
view  from  its  height,  and  to  pay  their  duty  to  the 
obelisk  raised  there  to  the  common  fame  of  Wolfe 
and  Montcalm.  The  sounding  Latin  inscription 
celebrates  the  royal  governor-general  who  erected 
it  almost  as  much  as  the  heroes  to  whom  it  was 
raised  ;  but  these  spectators  did  not  begrudge  the 
space  given  to  his  praise,  for  so  fine  a  thought  mer- 
ited praise.     It  enforced  again  the  idea  of  a  kind  of 


QUEBEC. 


251 


posthumous  friendship  between  AVolfe  and  Mont- 
cahn,  which  gives  their  memory  its  rare  distinction, 
and  unites  them,  who  fell  in  fight  against  each 
other,  as  closely  as  if  they  had  both  died  for  the 
same  cause. 

Some  lasting  dignity  seems  to  linger  about  the 
city  that  has  once  been  a  capital ;  and  this  odor  of 
fallen  nobility  belongs  to  Quebec,  which  was  a  cap- 
ital in  the  European  sense,  with  all  the  advantages 
of  a  small  vice-regal  court,  and  its  social  and  polit- 
ical intrigues,  in  the  French  times.  Under  the 
English,  for  a  hundred  years  it  was  the  centre  of 
Colonial  civilization  and  refinement,  with  a  gov- 
ernor-general's residence  and  a  brilliant,  ejiay,  and 
deliglitful  society,  to  which  the  large  garrison  of 
former  days  gave  gayety  and  romance.  The  hon- 
ors of  a  capital,  first  shared  with  Montreal  and 
Toronto,  now  rest  with  half-savage  Ottawa  ;  and 
the  garrison  has  dwindled  to  a  regiment  of  rifles, 
whose  presence  would  hardly  be  known,  but  for  the 
natty  sergeants  lounging,  stick  in  hand,  about  tiie 
streets  and  courting  the  nurse-maids.  lUit  in  the 
days  of  old  there  were  scenes  of  carnival  pleasure 
in  the  Governor's  Garden,  and  there  the  garrison 
band  still  plays  once  a  week,  when  it  is  filled  by 
the  fashion  and  beauty  of  Quebec,  and  some  sem- 
blance of  the  past  is  recalled.  It  is  otherwise  a 
lonesome,  indifferently  tended  place,  and  on  this 
afternoon  there  was  no  one  there  but  a  few  loaiing 
young  fellows  of  low  degree,  French  and  English, 


■i  .(I 


t 


I   m. 


i 


3       ^S) 


yi 


252 


THKIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


and  children  that  played  screaming  from  seat  to 
scat  and  path  to  path  and  over  the  too-heavily 
sliaded  grass.  In  spite  of  a  conspicuous  warning 
that  any  dog  entering  the  garden  would  be  de- 
stroyed, the  place  was  thronged  with  dogs  unmo- 
lesteil  and  apparently  in  no  danger  of  the  threat- 
ened doom.  The  seal  of  a  disagreeable  desolation 
was  given  in  the  legend  rudely  carved  upon  one  of 
the  benches   '    Success  to  the  Irish  Republic  !  " 

The  mor..  "^  of  the  next  day  our  tourists  gave 
to  hearing  i.  at  th*^  French  cathedral,  which  was 
not  different,  to  their  heretical  senses,  from  any 
other  mass,  except  that  the  ceremony  was  performed 
with  a  very  full  clerical  force,  and  was  attended  by 
an  uncommonly  devout  congregation.  With  r^u- 
rope  constantly  in  their  minds,  they  were  bewil- 
dered to  find  the  worshippers  not  chiefly  old  and 
young  women,  but  men  also  of  all  ages  and  of  every 
degree,  from  the  neat  peasant  in  his  Sabbath-day 
best  to  the  modish  young  Quebecker,  who  spread 
his  hanilkerchief  on  the  floor  to  save  his  pantaloons 
during  supplication.  There  was  fashion  and  educa- 
tion in  large  degree  among  the  men,  and  there  was 
in  all  a  pious  attention  to  the  function  in  poetical 
keej>ing  with  the  origin  and  history  of  a  city  which 
the  zeal  of  the  Church  had  founded. 

A  magnificent  beadle,  clothed  in  a  gold-laced 
coat  and  bearing  a  silver  staff,  bowed  to  them  when 
they  entered,  and,  leading  them  to  a  pew,  punched 
up  a  kneeling  peasant,  who  mutely  resumed  his 


QUEBKC. 


25b 


prayers  in  tlie  aisle  outside,  while  they  took  his 
phice.  It  appeared  to  Isabel  very  unjust  that  their 
curiosity  should  displace  his  religion  ;  but  she  con- 
soled herself  by  making  IJasil  give  a  shilling  to  the 
man  wiio,  j)receded  by  the  shining  beadle,  came 
I'ound  to  take  up  a  collection.  The  peasant  could 
have  given  nothing  but  copper,  and  she  felt  tiiat 
this  restored  the  lost  balance  of  righteousness  in 
their  favor.  There  was  a  sermon,  very  sweetly  and 
gracefully  delivered  by  a  young  priest  of  singular 
beauty,  even  among  clergy  whose  good  looks  are  so 
notable  as  those  of  Quebec  ;  and  then  they  followed 
the  orderly  crowd  of  worshippers  out,  and  left  the 
cathedral  to  the  sacristan  and  the  odor  of  incense. 

They  thought  the  type  of  French-Canadian  better 
here  than  at  Montreal,  and  they  particularly  noticed 
the  greater  number  of  pretty  young  girls.  All 
classes  were  well  dressed ;  for  though  the  best 
dressed  could  not  be  called  stylish  according  to  the 
American  standard,  as  Isabel  decided,  and  had  only 
a  provincial  gentility,  the  poorest  wore  garments 
that  were  clean  and  whole.  ICverybody,  too,  was 
going  to  have  a  hot  Siniday  dinner,  if  there  was 
any  truth  in  the  odors  that  steamed  out  of  every 
door  and  window ;  and  tliis  dinner  was  to  be  abun- 
dantly garnished  with  onions,  for  the  dullest  nose 
could  not  err  concerning  that  savor. 

Numbers  of  tourists,  of  a  nationality  that  showed 
itself  superior  to  eveijy  distinction  of  race,  were 
strolling  vaguely,  and   not   always  quite  happily 


254 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


f    ;''■!■ 


i 


'    '\\ 


about ;  but  they  made  no  impression  on  the  propel 
local  character,  and  the  air  tlirougliout  the  morning 
was  full  of  the  sentiment  of  Sunday  in  a  Catholic 
city.  There  was  the  apparently  meaningless  jan- 
gling of  bells,  Avith  profound  hushes  between,  and 
then  more  jubilant  jangling,  and  then  deeper  silence ; 
there  was  the  devout  trooping  of  the  crowds  to  the 
churches ;  and  there  was  the  beginning  of  the  long 
afternoon's  lounging  and  amusement  with  which 
the  people  of  that  faith  reward  their  morning's  de- 
votion. Little  stands  for  the  sale  of  knotty  apples 
and  choke-cherries  and  cakes  and  cider  sprang  mag- 
ically into  existence  after  service,  and  people  were 
already  eating  and  drinking  at  them.  The  carriage- 
drivers  resumed  their  chase  of  the  tourists,  and  the 
unvoiceful  stir  of  the  new  week  had  begun  again. 
Quebec,  in  fact,  is  but  a  pantomimic  reproduction 
of  France  ;  it  is  as  if  two  centuries  in  a  new  land, 
amidst  the  primeval  silences  of  nature  and  the  long 
hush  of  the  Northern  winters,  had  stilled  the  tongues 
of  the  lively  folk  and  made  them  taciturn  as  we  of 
a  gi'aver  race.  They  have  kept  the  ancestral  vivac- 
ity of  manner  ;  the  elegance  of  the  shrug  is  intact ; 
the  talking  hands  take  part  in  dialogue  ;  the  agitated 
person  will  have  its  share  of  expression.  But  the 
louil  and  eager  tone  is  wanting,  and  their  dumb 
show  m ',  stifles  the  beholder  almost  as  much  as  the 
Southern  architecture  under  the  slanting  Northern 
sun.  It  is  not  America ;  if  it  is  not  France,  what 
bit? 


QUKBEC. 


255 


Of  the  many  beautiful  things  to  see  in  the  neigh- 
borliood  of  Quebec,  our  wedding-journeyers  were  in 
doubt  on  which  to  bestow  their  one  precious  after- 
noon. Should  it  be  Lorette,  with  its  cataract  aud 
its  remnant  of  bU*ached  and  fading  Hurons,  or  the 
Isle  of  Orleans  with  its  fertile  farms  and  its  primi- 
tive peasant  life,  or  Montmorenci,  with  the  un- 
rivaled fall  and  the  long  drive  through  the  beauti- 
ful village  of  Beauport  ?  Isabel  chose  the  last,  be- 
cause Basil  had  been  there  before,  and  it  had  to  it 
the  poetry  of  the  wasted  years  in  which  slie  did  not 
know  him.  She  had  possessed  herself  of  the  jour- 
nal of  his  early  travels,  among  the  other  ])()rtions 
and  j)arcels  recoverable  from  the  dreadful  past,  and 
from  time  to  time  on  this  jouruey  she  had  read  him 
passages  out  of  it,  with  mingled  sentiment  and 
irony,  and,  whether  she  was  mocking  or  admiring, 
equally  to  his  confusiim.  Now,  as  they  smoothly 
bowled  away  from  the  city,  she  made  him  listen  to 
what  he  had  written  of  the  same  excursion    long 


ago. 


It  was,  to  be  sure,  a  sad  farrago  of  sentiment 
about  the  village  and  the  rural  sights,  and  especially 
a  girl  tossing  hay  in  the  field.  Yet  it  had  touches 
of  njiture  and  reality,  and  Basil  could  not  utterly 
despise  himself  for  having  written  it.  '*  Yes,"  he 
said,  "life  was  then  a  thing  to  be  put  into  pretty 
periods  ;  now  it 's  something  that  has  risks  and  aver- 
ages, and  may  be  insured." 

There   was  regret,  fancied  or  expressed,  in  his 


in 


1 

"mI 

;.i| 

.    . 

l: 

,A 

i 


;     ': 


i 


m 


256 


THEIR  WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


tone,  that  made  licr  sigh,  "Ah  I  if  I'd  only  had  a 
little  more  money,  you  might  have  devoted  yourself 
to  literature  ; "  for  she  was  a  true  Bostonian  in  her 
honor  of  our  poor  craft. 

"  O,  you're  not  greatly  to  blame,"  answered  her 
husband,  "  and  I  forgive  you  the  little  wrong  you've 
done  me.  I  was  quits  with  the  Muse,  at  any  rate, 
you  know,  before  we  were  married  ;  and  I'm  very 
well  satisfied  to  be  going  back  to  my  applications 
and  policies  to-morrow." 

To-morrow  ?  The  word  struck  cold  upon  her. 
Then  their  wedding  journey  would  begin  to  end  to- 
morrow !  So  it  would,  she  owned  with  another 
sigh  ;  and  yet  it  seemed  impossible. 

"  There,  ma'am,"  said  the  driver,  rising  from  his 
seat  and  facing  round,  while  he  pointed  with  his 
whip  towards  Quebec,  '*  that 's  what  we  call  the  Sil- 
ver City." 

They  looked  back  with  him  at  the  cit}^  whose 
thousands  of  tinned  roofs,  rising  one  above  the  other 
from  the  water's  edge  to  the  citadel,  were  all  a 
splendor  of  argent  light  in  the  afternoon  sun.  It 
was  indeed  as  if  some  magic  had  clothed  that  huge 
rock,  base  and  steepy  flank  and  crest,  with  a  silver 
city.  They  gazed  upon  the  marvel  with  cries  of  joy 
that  satisfied  the  driver's  utmost  pride  in  it,  and 
Isabel  said,  "  To  live  there,  there  in  tliat  Silver 
City,  in  perpetual  sojourn  !  To  be  always  going  to 
go  on  a  morrow  that  never  came !  To  be  forever 
within  one  day  of  the  end  of  a  wedding  journey 
that  never  ended  I " 


QUEBEC. 


257 


It 


From  far  down  the  river  by  which  they  rode 
came  the  sound  of  a  cannon,  breaking  the  Sabbath 
repose  of  the  air.  "  That 's  the  gun  of  the  Liver- 
pool steamer,  just  coming  in,"  said  the  driver. 

"  O,"  cried  Isabel,  "  I'm  tliankful  we're  only  to 
stay  one  night  more,  for  now  we  shall  be  turned 
out  of  our  nice  room  by  those  people  who  tele- 
gi-aphed  for  it  I  " 

There  is  a  continuous  village  along  the  St.  Law- 
rence from  Quebec,  almost  to  Montmorenci ;  and 
they  met  crowds  of  villagers  coming  from  the 
church  as  they  passed  through  Beauport.  But 
Basil  was  dismayed  at  the  change  that  had  befal- 
len them.  They  had  their  Sunday's  best  on,  and 
the  women,  instead  of  wearing  the  peasant  costume 
in  which  he  had  first  seen  them,  were  now  dressed 
as  if  out  of  "  Harper's  Bazar  "  of  the  year  before. 
He  anxiously  asked  the  driver  if  the  broad  straw 
hats  and  the  bright  sacks  and  kirtles  were  no  more. 
"  O,  you'd  see  them  on  weekdays,  sir,"  was  the 
answer,  "  but  they're  not  so  plenty  any  time  as 
they  used  to  be."  He  opened  his  store  of  facts 
about  the  hahitans^  whom  he  praised  for  every 
virtue,  —  for  thrift,  for  sobriety,  for  neatness,  for 
amiability  ;  and  his  words  ought  to  have  had  the 
greater  weight,  because  he  was  of  the  Irish  race, 
between  which  and  the  Canadians  there  is  no  kind- 
ness lost.  But  the  looks  of  the  passers-by  corrob- 
orated him,  and  as  for  the  little  houses,  open-doored 
beside  the  way,  with  the  pleasant  faces  at  window 


J7 


:  I'^i 


258 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


and  portal,  they  were  miracles  of  picturesijueness 
and  cleanliness.  From  each  the  owner's  slim  do- 
main, narrowing  at  every  successive  division  among 
the  abundant  generations,  runs  back  to  hill  or  river 
in  well-defined  lines,  and  beside  the  cottage  is  a 
garden  of  pot-herbs,  bordered  with  a  flame  of  bright 
autumn  flowers ;  somewhere  in  decent  seclusion 
grunts  the  fattening  pig,  which  m  to  enrich  all 
those  peas  and  onions  for  the  winter's  broth  ;  there 
is  a  cheerfulness  of  poultry  about  the  barns  ;  I  dare 
be  sworn  there  is  always  a  snuill  girl  driving  a  flock 
of  decorous  ducks  down  the  midtlle  of  the  street ; 
and  of  the  priest  with  a  book  under  his  arm,  pass- 
ing a  way-side  shrine,  what  possible  doubt  ?  'J'he 
Louses,  which  are  of  one  model,  are  built  by  the 
peasiints  themselves  with  the  stone  which  their  land 
yields  more  abundantly  than  any  other  crop,  and 
are  furnished  with  galleries  and  balconies  to  catch 
fcvery  ray  of  the  fleeting  summer,  and  perhaps  to 
remember  the  long-lost  ancestral  summers  of  Nor- 
mandy. At  every  moment,  in  passing  through  this 
ideally  neat  and  pretty  village,  our  tourists  must 
think  of  the  lovely  poem  of  which  all  French 
Canada  seems  but  a  reminiscence  and  illustration. 
It  was  Grand  Prd,  not  Beauport ;  and  they  paid 
an  eager  homage  to  the  beautiful  genius  which  has 
touched  those  simple  village  aspects  with  an  undy- 
ing charm,  and  which,  whatever  the  land's  political 
allegiance,  is  there  perpetual  Seigneur. 

The  village,  stretching  along  the  broad  intervale 


QUEBEC. 


259 


of  the  St.  Lawrence,  grows  sparser  as  you  draw 
near  the  Falls  of  Montmorenci,  and  presently  you 
drive  past  the  grove  shutting  from  the  road  the 
country-house  in  which  the  Duke  of  Kent  spent 
some  merry  days  of  his  jovial  youth,  and  come  in 
sight  of  two  lofty  towers  of  stone,  —  monuments 
an<l  witnesses  of  the  tragedy  of  Montmorenci. 

Once  a  suspension-bridge,  built  sorely  against 
the  will  of  the  neighboring  habitans,  hung  from 
these  towers  high  over  the  long  plunge  of  the  cata- 
ract. But  one  morning  of  the  fatal  spring  after 
the  first  winter's  frost  had  tried  the  hold  of  the 
cable  on  the  rocks,  an  old  peasant  and  his  ^vife 
with  their  little  grandson  set  out  in  their  cart  to 
pass  the  bridge.  As  they  drew  near  the  middle 
the  anchoring  wires  suddenly  lost  their  grip  upon 
the  shore,  and  whirled  into  the  air ;  the  bridge 
crashed  under  the  hapless  passengers  and  they  were 
launched  from  its  height  upon  the  verge  of  the  fall 
and  thence  plunged,  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet, 
into  the  ruin  of  the  abyss. 

The  habitans  rebuilt  their  bridge  of  wood  upon 
low  stone  piers,  so  far  up  the  river  from  the  cata- 
ract that  whoever  fell  from  it  would  yet  have  many 
a  chance  for  life  ;  and  it  would  have  been  perilous 
to  offer  to  replace  the  fallen  structure,  which,  in 
the  belief  of  faithful  Christians,  clearly  belonged 
to  the  numerous  bridges  built  by  the  Devil,  in 
times  when  the  Devil  did  not  call  himself  a  civil 
enfrineer. 


II 


m 


260 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


The  driver,  with  just  unction,  recounted  the  sad 
tale  as  he  halted  his  horses  on  tlie  bridge ;  and  as 
his  i)assengers  looked  down  the  rock-fretted  brown 
torrent  towards  the  fall,  Isabel  seized  the  occasion 
to  shudder  that  ever  she  had  set  foot  on  that  sus- 
piMisioii-bridge  below  Niagara,  and  to  prove  to 
IJasils  confusion  that  her  doubt  of  the  bridges 
between  the  Three  Sisters  was  not  a  case  of  nerves 
but  an  instinctive  wisdom  concerning  the  unsafety 
of  all  bridges  of  that  design. 

From  the  gate  opening  into  the  grounds  about 
the  fall  two  or  three  little  French  boys,  whom  they 
had  not  the  heart  to  forbid,  ran  noisily  before  them 
with  cries  in  their  sole  English,  *'  This  way,  sir  !  " 
and  led  toward  a  weather-beaten  summer-house 
that  tottered  upon  a  projecting  rock  above  the 
verge  of  the  cataract.  IJut  our  tourists  shook  their 
heads,  and  turned  away  for  a  more  distant  and  less 
dizzy  enjoyment  of  the  spectacle,  though  any  com- 
manding point  was  sutiiciently  chasmal  and  precip- 
itous. The  lofty  bluff  was  scooped  inward  from 
the  St.  Lawrence  in  a  vast  irregular  semicircle, 
witii  cavernous  hollows,  one  within  another,  sinking 
far  into  its  sides,  and  naked  from  foot  to  crest,  or 
meagrely  wooded  here  and  there  with  evergreen. 
From  the  central  brink  of  these  gloomy  purple 
chasms  the  foamy  cataract  •aunched  itself,  and  like 
a  cloud,  — 

"  Along  the  clifl  to  fall  and  pause  and  full  did  seem-" 


QUEBEC. 


261 


I  say  a  cloud,  because  I  find  it  already  said  to 
my  hand,  as  it  were,  in  a  pretty  verse,  and  because 
I  must  needs  liken  Montmorenct  to  something  tluit 
is  soft  and  light.  Yet  a  cloud  does  not  represent 
the  glinting  of  the  water  in  its  downward  swoop ; 
it  is  like  some  broad  slope  of  sun-smitten  snow ; 
but  snow  is  coldly  white  and  opaque,  and  this  has 
a  creamy  warmth  in  its  luminous  mass ;  and  so, 
there  hangs  the  cataract  unsaid  as  before.  It  is  a 
mystery  that  anything  so  grand  should  be  so  lovely, 
that  anything  so  tenderly  fair  in  whatever  aspect 
should  yet  be  so  large  that  one  glance  fails  to  com- 
prehend it  all.  The  rugged  wildness  of  the  cliffs 
and  hollows  about  it  is  softened  by  its  gi-acious 
beauty,  which  half  redeems  the  vulgarity  of  the 
timber-merchant's  uses  in  setting  the  river  at  work 
in  his  saw-mills  and  choking  its  outlet  into  the  St. 
Lawrence  with  rafts  of  lumber  and  rubbish  of  slabs 
and  shingles.  Nay,  rather,  it  is  alone  amidst  these 
things,  and  the  eye  takes  note  of  them  by  a  sepa- 
rate effort. 

Our  tourists  sank  down  upon  the  turf  that  crept 
with  its  white  clover  to  the  edge  of  the  precipice, 
and  gazed  dreamily  upon  the  fall,  filling  their  vis- 
ion with  its  exquisite  color  and  form.  Being  wiser 
than  I,  they  did  not  try  to  utter  its  loveliness  ;  they 
were  content  to  feel  it,  and  the  perfection  of  the 
afternoon,  whose  low  sun  slanting  over  the  land- 
scape gave,  under  that  pale,  greenish-blue  sky,  a 
pensive  sentiment  of  autumn  to  the  world.     The 


I 


i 


262 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


il 


. 


1 


?!  li 


■   1  i; 


M    I 


crickets  cried  amongst  the  grass ;  the  hesitating 
chirp  of  birds  came  from  the  tree  overhead ;   a 


^ 


A/: 


shaggy  colt  left  off  grazing  in  the  field  and  stalked 
up  to  stare  at  them ;  their  little  guides,  having 


' 


QUEBEC. 


263 


found  that  these  people  had  no  pleasure  in  the 
sight  of  small  boys  scuffling  on  the  verge  of  a  prec- 
ipice, threw  themselves  also  down  upon  tiie  grsiss 
and  crooned  a  long,  long  ballad  in  a  mournful 
minor  key  about  some  maiden  whose  name  was  lia 
Belle  Adeline.  It  was  a  moment  of  unmixed  en- 
joyment for  every  sense,  and  through  all  their  being 
they  were  glad ;  which  considering,  they  ceased  to 
be  so,  with  a  deep  sigh,  as  one  reasoning  that  he 
dreams  must  presently  awake.  They  never  could 
have  an  emotion  without  desiring  to  analyze  it ; 
but  jierhaps  their  rapture  would  have  ceased  as 
swiftly,  even  if  they  had  not  tried  to  make  it  a  fact 
of  consciousness. 


"  If  there  were  not  dinner  after  such  experiences 
as  these,"  said  Isabel,  as  they  sat  at  table  that 
evening,  "  I  don't  know  what  would  become  of  one. 
But  dinner  unites  the  idea  of  pleasure  and  duty, 
and  brings  you  gently  back  to  earth.  You  must 
eat,  don't  you  see,  and  there 's  nothing  disgraceful 
about  what  you're  obliged  to  do ;  and  so  —  it 's  all 
right." 

"  Isabel,  Isabel,"  cried  her  husband,  "  you  have 
a  wonderful  mind,  and  its  workings  always  amaze 
me.  But  be  careful,  my  dear ;  be  careful.  Don't 
work  it  too  hard.  The  human  brain,  you  know ; 
delicate  organ." 

"  Well,  you  understand  what  I  mean  ;  and  I 
think  it 's  one  of  the  great  charms  of  a  husband. 


i-i;;- 


m 


264 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


! 


II. 


that  you're  not  forced  to  express  yourself  to  him. 
A  husband, "  continued  Isabel,  sententiously,  poising 
a  bit  of  meringue  between  her  thumb  and  finger, 
—  for  they  had  r«»ached  that  point  in  the  r(»past,  — 
"  a  husband  is  almost  as  good  as  another  woman !  " 

In  the  |)arlor  tiny  found  the  Ellisons,  and  ex- 
changed the  history  of  the  d.ay  with  them. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Ellison,  at  the  end,  "  it 's 
been  a  pleasant  day  enough, but  what  of  the  night? 
You've  been  tuvned  out,  too,  by  those  ])eople  who 
came  on  the  steamer,  and  who  might  as  well  have 
stJiViMl  on  board  to-night ;  have  you  got  another 
rooh.  .'" 

"  Not  precisely,"  said  Isabel ;  *'  we  have  a  coop 
in  the  fifth  story,  right  under  the  roof." 

I\lrs.  Ellison  turned  energetically  u])on  lier  hus- 
band and  cried  in  tones  of  reproach,  "  Richard, 
Mrs.  Alarcii  has  a  room  !  " 

**  A  COO]),  she  «<i/i?,"  retorted  that  amiable 
Coloiu'l,  *'  and  we're  ioo  good  for  that,  'i'he  clerk 
is  keepir<g  us  in  suspense  about  a  room,  because  he 
means  to  surprise  us  with  sometliing  palatial  at  the 
end.     It  's  liis  joking  way." 

*' Nonsense!"  said  Mrs.  El'lson.  "Have  you 
seen  him  since  dinner?" 

''  I  hnvc  made  life  a  burden  to  him  for  the  last 
half-liour,"  returned  the  Colonel,  with  the  kindliest 
smile. 

"  O  Richard,"  cried  his  wife,  in  despair  of  hia 
amendment,  '*  you  wouldn't  n»ake  life  a  burden  t<? 


QUEBEC. 


265 


a  mouse  I "  And  having  nothing  else  for  it,  she 
laughed,  half  in  sorrow,  half  in  fondness. 

"  Well,  Fanny,"  the  Colonel  irrelevantly  an- 
swered, **  put  on  your  hat  and  things,  and  let 's  all 
go  up  to  Durham  Terrace  for  a  promenade.  I  know 
our  friends  want  to  go.  It 's  something  worth  see- 
ing ;  and  by  the  time  we  get  back,  the  clerk  will 
have  us  a  perfectly  sumptuous  apartment." 

Nothing,  I  think,  more  enforces  the  illusion  of 
Southern  Europe  in  Quebec  than  the  Sunday-night 
promenading  on  Durham  Terrace.  This  is  the 
ample  space  on  the  brow  of  the  cliff  to  the  left  of 
the  r*  ddel,  the  noblest  and  most  commanding  posi- 
tion in  the  whole  city,  which  was  formerly  occupied 
by  the  old  castle  of  Saint  Louis,  where  dwelt  the 
brave  Count  Frontenac  and  his  sj)lendid  successors 
of  the  French  retjime.  Tin?  castle  went  the  way 
of  Quebec  by  fire  some  forty  years  ago,  and  Lord 
Durham  leveled  the  siteard  nuide  it  a  })ul)lic  prom- 
enade. A  stately  arcade  of  solid  masoniy  supports 
it  on  the  brink  of  the  rock,  and  an  iron  parapet  in- 
closes it;  there  are  a  few  seats  to  lounge;  upon,  and 
some  idle  ol<l  guns  for  the  children  to  clamber  over 
and  play  wit.i.  A  soft  twilight  had  followed  the 
day,  and  there  was  just  enougii  obscurity  to  hide 
from  a  willing  eye  the  Northern  and  New  M'orld 
facts  of  the  scene,  and  to  bring  intu  more  romantic 
relief  the  citadel  dark  against  tin;  mellow  «'veiiing, 
and  the  people  gossiping  from  window  to  window 
across  tlie  narrow  streets  of  the  Lower  Town.    The 


I 


I 


266 


THEIR  WEDDIN^     JOURNEY. 


Terrace  itself  was  densely  thronged,  and  there  was 
a  constant  coming  and  going  of  the  promenaders, 
who  each  formally  paced  back  and  forth  upon  the 
planking  for  a  certain  time,  and  then  went  quietly 
home,  giving  place  to  the  new  arrivals.  Tliey  were 
nearly  all  French,  and  they  were  not  generally,  it 
seemed,  of  the  first  fashion,  but  rather  of  middling 
condition  in  life  ;  the  English  being  represented  only 
by  a  few  young  fellows  and  now  and  then  a  red- 
faced  old  gentleman  with  an  Indian  scarf  trailing 
from  his  hat.  There  were  some  fair  American 
costumes  and  faces  in  the  crowd,  but  it  was  essen- 
tially Quebecian.  The  young  girls  walking  in  ])airs, 
or  with  their  lovers,  l»ad  the  true  touch  of  provin- 
cial unstylishness,  the  young  men  the  infll-.M-al 
excess  of  the  second-rate  Latin  dandy,  their  v^I^ors 
the  rich  inelegance  of  a  bourgeoisie  in  tlu'ir  best. 
A  few  better-figured  avocata  or  notaires  (their  pro- 
fession was  as  unmistakable  as  if  they  had  carried 
their  well  -  polished  brass  doorplates  upon  their 
breasts)  walked  and  gravely  talked  with  each  other. 
The  uon-Ai  'vican  character  of  the  scene  was  not 
less  vividl'  uu-  ?d  in  the  fact  that  eacli  jierson 
dressed  accor(lj»»ir  to  liis  own  taste  and  fniiiklv  in- 
dulged  private  j)references  in  shapes  and  colors.  ( )ne 
of  the  promenaders  was  in  white,  even  to  his  canvas 
shoes ;  another,  with  yet  bolder  individuality,  ap- 
peared in  perfect  purple.  It  had  a  strange,  ahnost 
portentous  effect  when  these  two  startling  figures 
met  as  friendj  and  joined  each  other  in  the  prome- 


QUKBKC. 


267 


One 


nade  with  linkejl  arni:. ;  but  tlie  evening  w.as  already 
beginning  to  darken  round  tiiem,  and  j)re8ently  the 
purple  comrade  was  merely  a  sombre  shadow  beside 
the  glimmering  white. 

The  valleys  and  the  heights  now  vanished ;  but 
the  river  defined  itself  by  the  varicolored  lights  of 
the  ships  and  steamers  that  lay,  dark,  motionless 
bulks,  upon  its  broad  breast ;  the  lights  of  Point 
Levis  swarmed  upon  the  other  shore  ;  the  Lower 
Town,  two  hundred  feet  below  them,  stretched  an 
alluring  mystery  of  clustering  roofs  and  lam))lit 
windows  and  dark  and  shining  streets  around  the 
mighty  rock,  mural-crowned.  Suddenly  a  8j)ectacle 
peculiarly  Northern  and  characteristic  of  Quebec  re- 
vealed itself  ;  a  long  arch  brightened  over  the  north- 
ern horizon  ;  the  tremulous  flames  of  the  aurora, 
pallid  violet  or  faintly  tinged  with  crimson,  shot  up- 
ward from  it,  and  played  with  a  weird  apparition 
and  evanescence  to  the  zenith.  While  the  strangers 
looked,  a  gun  boomed  from  the  citadel,  and  the 
wild  sweet  notes  of  the  bugle  sprang  out  upon  the 
silence. 

Then  they  all  said,  '*  How  perfectly  in  keeping 
everything  has  been  ! "  and  sauntered  back  to  the 
hotel. 

The  Colonel  went  into  the  office  to  give  the  clerk 
another  turn  or.  the  rack,  rnd  make  him  confess  to 
a  hifhlen  apartment  somewhere,  while  Isaiu'l  left 
her  husband  to  Mrs.  Kllison  in  the  parlor,  and  in- 
vited Miss  Kitty  to  look  at  her  coop  in  the  fifth 


268 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


I 


\\ 


1 


story.  As  they  approached,  light  and  music  and 
UiujijhttM'  stole  out  of  an  open  door  next  hers,  and 
Isahel,  distinguishing  the  voices  of  the  theatrical 
party,  divined  that  this  was  the  sick-chaniher,  and 
tliat  tiiey  were  again  cheering  up  the  afflicted  mem- 
ber (jf  the  troupe.  Some  one  was  heard  to  say, 
*'  Well,  'ow  do  you  feel  now,  Charley?"  and  a 
sound  of  subdued  swearing  responded,  followed  by 
more  laughter,  and  the  twanging  of  a  guitar,  and  a 
snatch  of  song,  and  a  stir  of  feet  and  dresses  us  for 
dej)arture. 

The  two  listeners  shrank  together ;  as  women 
they  could  not  enjoy  these  proofs  of  the  jolly  carri' 
araderie  existing  among  the  people  of  the  troupe. 
They  trembled  as  before  the  merriment  of  as  many 
light-hearted,  careless,  good-natured  ycang  men ; 
it  was  no  harm,  but  it  was  dismaying ;  and, 
"  Dear  I  "  cried  Isabel,  '*  what  shall  we  do  ?  " 

"  Go  back,"  said  Miss  Ellison,  boldly,  and  back 
they  ran  to  the  parlor,  where  they  found  Basil  and 
the  Colonel  and  his  wif<  'n  earnest  conclave.  The 
Colonel,  like  a  shrewd  strategist,  was  making  show 
of  a  desperation  more  violent  than  his  wife's,  who 
was  thus  naturally  forced  into  the  attitude  of  moder- 
ating his  fury. 

"  Well,  Fanny,  that  'a  all  he  can  do  for  us ;  and 
I  do  think  it  's  the  most  outrageous  thing  in  the 
world  !     It  's  real  mean  !  " 

Fanny  perceived  a  bold  parody  of  her  o^vn  de- 
nunciatory manner,  but  just  then  she  was  obliged 


QUEBEC. 


269 


to  answer  Isabel's  eager  inquiry  whether  they  had 
got  a  room  yet.  "  Yes,  a  room,"  she  said,  •■'  with 
two  beds.  But  wliat  are  we  to  do  with  one  room  ? 
Tliat  elerk  —  I  don't  know  what  to  call  him  "  — 
(*'  Call  him  a  hotel-clerk,  my  dear ;  you  can't  say 
anything  worse,"  interrupted  lier  husband)  — 
•"  seems  to  tliink  the  matter  perfectly  settled." 

"  You  see,  Mrs.  March,"  added  the  Colonel, 
"  he  's  able  to  bully  us  in  this  way  because  he  has 
the  architecture  on  his  side.  There  isn't  another 
room  in  the  house." 

"  Let  me  think  a  moment,"  said  Isabel  not  think- 
ing an  instant.  She  had  taken  a  fancy  to  at  least 
two  of  these  people  from  the  first,  and  in  the  last 
hour  they  had  all  become  very  well  acipiainted  ; 
now  she  said,  "  I'll  tell  you  :  tliere  are  two  beds  in 
our  room  also ;  we  ladies  will  take  one  room,  and 
you  gentlemen  the  other  I  " 

"  Mrs.  MjKch,  I  bow  to  the  superiority  of  the 
Boston  mind,"  said  the  Colonel,  wliile  his  femal*^ 
civilly  protested  and  consented  ;  "  and  I  might 
almost  hail  you  as  our  preserver.  If  ever  you  come 
to  Milwaukee,  —  which  is  the  centre  of  tho.  world, 
as  Boston  is,  —  we  —  I  —  shall  be  happy  to  have 
yon  call  at  my  place  of  business.  —  I  didn't  copujut 
mysvilf,  did  I,  Fanny? — I  am  sometimes  hospitij- 
ble  to  excess,  Mrs.  March,"  he  said,  to  explaiji  his 
aside.  "  And  now,  let  us  reconn<Htre.  Lead  on, 
madani,  and  the  gratitude  of  the  houseless  stranger 
will  folio .7  you." 


270 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


The  whole  party  explored  both  rooms,  and  the 
ladies  decided  to  keep  Isabers.  The  Colonel  was 
dispatciied  to  see  that  the  wraps  and  traps  of  his 
party  were  sent  to  this  number,  and  Basil  went 
with  him.  The  things  came  long  before  the  gentle- 
men returned,  but  the  ladies  happily  employed  tiie 
interval  in  talking  over  the  excitements  of  the  day, 
and  in  saying  from  time  to  time,  "  So  very  kind  of 
you,  Mrs.  March,"  and  "  I  don't  know  what  we 
should  have  done,"  and  '*  Don't  speak  of  it,  please," 
and  '*  I'm  sure  it 's  a  great  pleasure  to  me." 

In  the  room  adjoining  theirs,  where  the  invalid 
actor  lay,  and  where  lately  there  had  been  min- 
strelsy and  apparently  dancing  for  his  solace,  there 
was  now  comparative  silence.  Two  women's  voices 
talked  together,  and  now  and  then  a  guitar  wsis 
touched  by  a  wandering  hand.  Isabel  had  just  put 
up  her  handkerchief  to  conceal  her  first  yawn,  when 
the  gentlemen,  odorous  of  cigars,  returned  to  say 
good-night. 

"  It 's  the  second  door  from  this,  isn't  it,  Isabel  ?  " 
asked  iier  husband. 

"  Yes,  the  second  door.     Good-night." 

"  Good-night." 

The  two  men  walked  off  together  :  but  in  a  min- 
ute afterwards  they  had  returned  and  were  knock- 
ing tremulously  at  the  closed  door. 

*•  O,  what  has  happ' ned  ?  "  chorused  the  ladies 
in  woeful  tune,  seeing  a  certain  wildness  in  the  faces 
that  confronted  them. 


QUEBEC. 


271 


»» 


nn- 


lies 
ices 


**  We  don't  know !  "  answered  the  others  in  as 
fearful  a  key,  and  related  how  they  had  found  the 
door  of  their  room  ajar,  and  a  bright  liglit  stream- 
ing into  the  con'idor.  They  did  not  stop  to  ponder 
this  fact,  but,  with  the  heedlessness  of  tlieir  sex, 
pushed  the  door  wide  open,  when  they  saw  seated 
before  the  mirror  a  bewildering  figure,  with  di- 
sheveled locks  wandering  down  the  back,  and  in 
dishabille  expressive  of  being  quite  at  home  there, 
which  turned  upon  them  a  ]>air  of  pale  blue  eyes, 
under  a  forehead  remarkable  for  th«  straggling 
fringe  of  hair  that  covered  it.  They*  professed  to 
have  remained  transfixed  at  the  sight,  and  to  have 
noted  a  like  dismay  on  the  visage  before  the  glass, 
ere  they  summoned  strength  to  fly.  These  facts 
Colonel  Ellison  gave  at  the  command  of  his  wife, 
with  many  protests  and  insincere  delays  amidst 
which  the  curiosity  of  his  hearers  alone  prevented 
them  from  rending  him  in  pieces. 

"  And  what  do  you  suppose  it  was  ?  "  demanded 
his  wife,  with  forced  calmness,  when  he  had  at  last 
made  an  end  of  the  story  and  his  abominable  hypoc- 
risies. 

"  Well,  /  think  it  was  a  merr'iaid. 

"  A  mermaid  !  "  said  his  wife ,  scornfully.  "  How 
do  you  know  ?  " 

'*  It  had  a  comb  in  its  hand,  for  one  thing  ;  and 
besides,  my  dear,  I  hope  I  know  a  mermaid  when 
I  see  it."  / 

Weil,"  said  Mrs.  Ellis(5n,  **  it  was  no  mermaid, 


'I. 


i( 


272 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


it  was  a  mistake  ;  ami  Tin  going  to  see  about  it. 
Will  you  go  with  me,  Ricluird  ?  " 

"  No  money  could  induce  me  !  If  it 's  a  mistake, 
it  isn't  j)ro|)er  for  mo  to  go  ;  if  it 's  a  mermaid,  it  'a 
dangerous." 

''  ( )  you  coward  I  "  said  the  intrepid  little  woman 
to  a  hero  of  all  the  fights  on  Sherman's  march  to 
the  sea ;  and  presently  they  heard  her  attack  the 
mysterious  enemy  with  a  lady-like  courage,  claim- 
ing the  invaded  chamber.  The  foe  replied  with 
like  civility,  saying  the  clerk  had  given  her  that 
room  with  the  understanding  that  another  lady  was 
to  be  put  there  with  her,  and  she  had  left  the  door 
unlocked  to  admit  her.  The  watchers  with  the  sick 
man  next  door  appeared  and  confirmed  this  speech  ; 
a  feeble  voice  from  the  bedclothes  swore  to  it. 

"  Of  course,"  added  the  invader,  "  if  I'd  known 
*ow  it  really  was,  I  never  would  'ave  listened  to 
such  a  thing,  never.  And  there  isn't  another  'ole 
in  tlie  'ouse  to  lay  me  'ead,"  she  concluded. 

"  Then  it 's  the  clerk's  fault,"  said  Mrs.  Ellison, 
glad  to  retreat  unharmed ;  and  she  made  her  hus- 
band ring  for  the  guilty  wretch,  a  pale,  quiet  young 
Frenchman,  whom  the  united  party,  sallying  into 
the  corridor,  began  to  upbraid  in  one  breath,  the 
lady  in  dishabille  vanishing  as  often  as  she  remem- 
bered it,  and  reappearing  whenever  some  strong 
point  of  argument  or  denunciation  occurred  to  her. 

The  clerk,  who  was  the  Benjamin  of  his  wicked 
tribe,  threw  himself  upon  their  mercy  and  confessed 


QUEBEC. 


273 


eyerytlung :  the  house  ^ya8  so  crowded,  and  he  had 
been  so  crazed  by  the  demands  upon  him,  that  he 
had  understood  Colonel  Ellison's  application  to  be 
for  a  bed  for  the  young  lady  in  his  party,  and  he 
had  done  the  very  best  he  could.  If  the  lady  there 
—  she  vanished  again  —  would  give  up  the  room  to 
the  two  gentlemen,  he  would  find  her  a  place  with 
the  housekeeper.  To  this  the  lady  consented  with- 
out difficulty,  and  the  rest  dispersing,  she  kissed 
one  of  the  sick  man's  watchers  with  "  Isn't  it  a 
shame,  Bella  ? "  and  flitted  down  the  darkness  of 
the  corridor.  The  rooms  upon  it  seemed  all,  save 
the  two  assigned  our  travellers,  to  be  occupied  by 
ladies  of  the  troupe  ;  their  doors  successively  opened, 
and  she  was  heard  explaining  to  each  as  she  passed. 
The  momentary  displeasure  which  she  had  shown 
at  her  banishment  was  over.  She  detailed  the  facts 
with  perfect  good-nature,  and  though  the  others  ap- 
peared no  more  than  herself  to  find  any  humorous 
cast  in  the  affair,  they  received  her  narration  with 
the  same  amiability.  They  uttered  their  sympathy 
seriously,  and  each  parted  from  her  with  some 
friendly  word.     Then  all  was  still. 

"  Richard,"  said  Mrs.  Ellison,  when  in  IsabeFs 
room  the  travellers  had  briefly  celebrated  these 
events,  *^  I  should  think  you'd  hate  to  leave  us  alone 
up  here." 

"  I  do  ;  but  you  can't  think  how  I  hate  to  go  off 

alone.     I  wish  you'd  come  part  of  the  way  with  us, 
18 


PI 


w 


• 


274 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


ladieH  ;  I  do  indeed.  Leave  your  door  unlocked,  at 
any  rate." 

This  jiniyer,  uttered  at  parting  outside  the  room, 
was  ans\vere<l  from  within  by  a  sound  of  turning 
keys  uiid  sliding  bolts,  and  a  low  thunder  as  of  bu- 
reaus and  wasiistands  rolled  against  the  door. 
*'  The  hulies  are  fortifying  their  position,"  said  the 
Colonel  to  Basil,  and  the  two  retunied  to  their  own 
chand>er.  "  I  don't  wish  any  intrusions,"  he  said, 
instantly  shntting  himself  in  ;  *'  my  nerves  are  too 
mnth  shaken  now.  What  an  awfully  mysterious 
old  ]»lace  this  Quebec  is,  Mr.  March !  I'll  tell  you 
what :  it 's  my  opinion  that  this  is  an  enchanted 
castle,  and  if  my  ribs  are  not  walked  over  by  a 
muleteer  in  the  course  of  the  night,  it 's  all  I  ask." 

In  this  and  other  (liscourse  recalling  the  famous 
adventure  of  Don  Quixote,  the  Colonel  beguiled  the 
labor  of  (lisrobing,  and  had  got  as  far  as  his  boots, 
when  there  came  a  startling  knock  at  the  door. 
With  one  boot  in  his  hand  and  the  other  on  his 
foot,  the  Cohmel  limped  forward.  "  I  su|>pose  it 's 
that  clerk  has  sent  to  say  he  's  made  some  other 
mistake,"  and  he  flung  wide  the  door,  and  then 
stood  motionless  before  it,  dumbly  staring  at  a  fig- 
ure on  the  threshold,  —  a  figure  with  the  fringed 
forehead  and  pale  blue  eyes  of  her  whom  they  had 
so  lately  turned  out  of  that  room. 

Shrinking  behind  the  side  of  the  doorway,  "  Ex- 
cuse me,  gentlemen,"  she  said,  with  a  dignity  that 
recalled  their  scattered  senses,  **  but  will  you  'ave 


QUEBEC. 


276 


the  gootlness  to  look  if  my  beada  are  on  your  table  ? 
O  tlianks,  thanks,  thanks  !  **  she  continiUHl,  siiowing 
her  face  and  one  hand,  as  Basil  bhishingly  advanced 
"with  a  string  of  heavy  black  beads,  piously  adorned 
with  a  large  cross.  **  Tm  sure,  I'm  greatly  obliged 
to  you,  gentlemen,  and  I  husk  a  thousand  pardons 
for  troublin'  you,"  she  concluded  in  a  somewhat 
severe  tone,  that  left  them  abashed  and  culpable  ; 
and  vanished  as  mysteriously  as  .^he  had  appeared. 

"  Now,  see  here,"  said  the  Colonel,  with  a  hugo 
sigh  as  he  closed  the  door  again,  and  this  time 
locked  it,  "  I  should  like  to  know  how  long  this  sort 
of  thing  is  to  be  kept  up  ?  Because,  if  it 's  to  be 
regidarly  repeated  during  the  night,  I'm  going  to 
dress  again."  Nevertheless,  he  finished  undressing 
and  got  into  bed,  where  he  remained  for  some  time 
silent.  Basil  put  out  the  light.  '*  O,  I'm  sorry  you 
did  that,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  the  Colonel ;  *'  but 
never  mind,  it  was  an  idle  curiosity,  no  doubt.  It  'a 
my  belief  that  in  the  landlord's  extremity  of  bed- 
linen,  I've  been  put  to  sleep  between  a  pair  of  ta- 
ble-cloths ;  and  I  thought  I'd  like  to  look.  It 
seems  to  me  that  I  make  out  a  checkered  pattern 
on  top  and  a  flowered  or  arabesque  pattern  un<ler- 
neath.  I  wish  they  had  given  me  mates.  It  'a 
pretty  hard  hsiving  to  sleep  between  odd  table- 
cloths. I  shall  complain  to  the  landlord  of  this  in 
the  morning.  I've  never  had  to  sleep  between  odd 
table-cloths  at  any  hotel  before." 

The  Colonel's  voice  seemed  scarcely  to  have  died 


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276 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


away  upon  Basirs  drowsy  ear,  when  suddenly  the 
sounds  of  music  and  laughter  from  the  invalid's 
room  startled  him  wide  awake.  The  sick  man^s 
watchers  were  coquetting  with  some  one  who  stood 
in  the  little  court-yard  five  stories  below.  A  cer- 
tain breadth  of  repartee  was  naturally  allowable  at 
that  distance ;  the  lover  avowed  his  passion  in  ar- 
dent terms,  and  the  ladies  mocked  him  with  the 
same  freedom,  now  and  then  totally  neglecting  him 
while  they  sang  a  snatch  of  song  to  the  twanging  of 
the  guitar,  or  talked  professional  gossip,  and  then 
returning  to  him  with  some  tormenting  expression 
of  tenderness. 

All  this,  abstractly  speaking,  was  nothing  to 
Basil ;  yet  he  could  recollect  few  things  intended 
for  his  pleasure  that  had  given  him  more  satisfac- 
tion. He  thought,  as  he  glanced  out  into  the  moon- 
light on  the  high-gabled  silvery  roofs  around  and 
on  the  gardens  of  the  convents  and  the  towers  of 
the  quaint  city,  that  the  scene  wanted  nothing  of 
the  proper  charm  of  Spanish  humor  and  romance, 
and  he  was  as  grateful  to  those  poor  souls  as  if  they 
had  meant  him  a  favor.  To  us  of  the  hither  side 
of  the  foot-lights,  there  is  always  something  fasci- 
nating in  the  life  of  the  strange  beings  who  dwell 
beyond  them,  and  who  are  never  so  unreal  as  in 
their  own  characters.  In  their  shabby  bestowal  in 
those  mean  upper  rooms,  their  tawdry  poverty, 
their  merry  submission  to  the  errors  and  caprices 
of  destiny,  their  mutual  kindliness  and  careless 


QUEBEC. 


277 


friendship,  theso  unprofitable  devotees  of  the  twink- 
ling-footed burlesque  seemed  to  be  playing  rather 
than  living  the  life  of  strolling  players ;  and  their 
love-making  was  the  last  touch  of  a  comedy  that 
Basil  could  hardly  accept  as  reality,  it  was  so  much 
more  like  something  seen  upon  the  stage.  He 
would  not  have  detracted  anything  from  the  com- 
monness and  cheapness  of  the  mise  en  scene,  for  that, 
he  reflected  drowsily  and  confusedly,  helped  to  give 
it  an  air  of  fact  and  make  it  like  an  episode  of  fic- 
tion. But  above  all,  he  was  pleased  with  the  natu- 
ral eventlessness  of  the  whole  adventure,  which  was 
in  perfect  agi'eement  with  his  taste ;  and  just  as  his 
reveries  began  to  lose  shape  in  dreams,  he  was  aware 
of  an  absurd  pride  in  the  fact  that  all  this  could 
have  happened  to  him  in  our  commonplace  time 
and  hemisphere.  "  Why,"  he  thought,  *'  if  I  were  a 
student  in  Alcala,  what  better  could  I  have  asked  ?  " 
And  as  at  last  his  soul  swung  out  from  its  moorings 
and  lapsed  down  the  broad  slowly  circling  tides  out 
in  the  sea  of  sleep,  he  was  conscious  of  one  subtile 
touch  of  compassion  for  those  poor  strollers,  —  a 
pity  so  delicate  and  fine  and  tender  that  it  hardly 
seemed  his  own  but  rather  a  sense  of  the  compas- 
sion that  pities  the  whole  world. 


mtr- 


X. 


HOMEWARD  ANI)   HOME. 

The  travel- 
lers all  met 
at  breakfast 
and  duly  dis- 
cussed  the 
adventures  of 
the  night; 
and   for   the 

rest,  tlie  forenoon  passed  rapidly  and  slowly  with 
Basil  and  Isabel,  as  regi'et  to  leave  Quebec,  or  the 
natural  impatience  of  travellers  to  be  off,  overcame 
them.  Isabel  spent  part  of  it  in  shopping,  for  she 
had  found  some  small  sums  of  money  and  certain  odd 
corners  in  her  trunks  still  unappropriated,  and  the 
handsome  stores  on  the  Rue  Fabrique  were  very 
tempting.  She  said  she  would  just  go  in  and  look ; 
and  the  wise  reader  imagines  the  result.  As  she 
knelt  over  her  boxes,  trying  so  to  distribute  her 
purchases  as  to  make  them  look  as  if  they  were  old, 
—  old  things  of  hers,  which  she  had  brought  all  the 
way  round  from  Boston  with  her,  —  a  fleeting  touch 
of  conscience  stayed  her  hand. 

"  Basil,"  she  said,  '*  perhaps  we'd  better  declare 


i  i 


HOMEWARD   AND   HOME. 


279 


»» 


9ome  of  these  things.    What 's  the  duty  on  those  ? 
she  asked,  pointmg  to  certain  articles. 

"  I  don't  know.  About  a  hundred  per  cent,  ad 
valorem.''^ 

"  C'estd  dire  —  f' 

"  As  much  as  they  cost." 

"  O  then,  dearest,"  responded  Isabel  indignantly, 
»*  it  cant  be  wrong  to  smuggle  I  1  won't  declare  a 
thread ! " 

"  That 's  very  well  for  yon,  whom  they  won't 
ask.  But  what  if  they  ask  me  whether  there's 
anything  to  declare  ?  " 

Isabel  looked  at  her  husband  and  hesitated. 
Then  she  replied  in  terms  that  I  am  proud  to 
record  in  honor  of  American  womanhood :  "  You 
mustn't  fib  about  it,  Basil "  (heroically)  ;  "  I 
couldn't  respect  you  if  you  did "  (tenderly) ; 
"but"  (with  decision)  ^'' you  must  slip  out  of  it 
some  ivay  !  " 

The  ladies  of  the  Ellison  party,  to  whom  she  put 
the  case  in  the  parlor,  agreed  with  her  perfectly. 
They  also  had  done  a  little  shopping  in  Quebec, 
and  they  meant  to  do  more  at  Montreal  before 
they  returned  to  the  States.  Mrs.  Ellison  was  dis- 
posed to  look  upon  Isabel's  compunctions  as  a  kind 
of  treason  to  the  sex,  to  be  forgiven  only  because 
so  quickly  repented. 

The  Ellisons  were  going  up  the  Saguenay  before 
coming  on  to  Boston,  and  urged  our  friends  hard 
to  go  \vith  them.     "  No,  that  must  be  for  another 


i 


I 

I 


w 


M 


280 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


time,"  said  Isabel.  "Mr.  March  has  to  be  home 
by  a  certain  day ;  and  we  shall  just  gHt  back  in 
season."  Then  she  made  them  promise  to  sjjend  a 
day  with  her  in  Boston,  and  tlie  Colonel  coining  to 
say  that  he  hail  a  carriage  at  the  door  for  their  ex- 
cursion to  Lorette,  the  two  parties  bade  good-by 
■with  affection  and  many  explicit  hopes  of  meeting 


soon  again. 


"  What  do  you  think  of  them,  dearest  ? "  de- 
manded Isabel,  as  she  sallied  out  with  Basil  for  a 
final  look  at  Quebec. 

"  The  young  lady  is  the  nicest ;  and  the  other  is 
well  enougli,  too.  She  is  a  good  deal  like  you,  but 
with  the  sense  of  humor  left  out.  You've  only 
enough  to  save  you." 

"  Well,  iier  husband  is  jolly  enough  for  both  of 
them.  He  's  funnier  than  you,  Basil,  and  he  hasn't 
any  of  your  little  languid  airs  and  affectations.  I 
don't  know  but  I'm  a  bit  disappointed  in  my  choice, 
darling  ;  but  I  dare  say  I  shall  work  out  of  it.  In 
fact,  I  don't  know  but  the  Colonel  is  a  little  too 
jolly.  This  drolling  everything  is  rather  fatiguing." 
And  having  begun,  they  did  not  stop  till  they  had 
taken  their  friends  to  pieces.  Dismayed,  then,  they 
hastily  reconstructed  them,  and  said  that  they  were 
among  the  pleasantest  people  they  ever  knew,  and 
they  were  really  very  sorry  to  part  with  them,  and 
they  should  do  everything  to  make  them  have  a 
good  time  in  Boston. 

They  were  sauntering  towards  Durham  Terrace, 


HOMEWARD  AND  HOME. 


281 


In 

too 


where  they  leaned  long  upon  the  iron  parapet  and 
blest  themselves  with  the  beauty  of  the  prospect. 
A  tender  haze  hung  upon  the  landscape  and  sub- 
dued it  till  the  scene  was  as  a  dream  before  them. 
As  in  a  dream  the  river  lay,  and  dream-like  the 
shipping  moved  or  rested  on  its  deep,  broad  bosom. 
Far  off  stretched  the  happy  fields  with  their  dim 
white  villages ;  farther  still  the  mellow  heights 
melted  into  the  low  hovering  heaven.  The  tinned 
roof"?  of  the  Lower  Toavii  twinkled  in  the  morning 
sun  ;  around  them  on  every  hand,  on  that  Monday 
forenoon  when  the  States  were  stirring  from  ocean 
to  ocean  in  feverish  industry,  drowsed  the  gray  city 
within  her  walls ;  from  the  flag-staff  of  the  citadel 
hung  the  red  banner  of  Saint  George  in  sleep. 

Their  hearts  were  strangely  and  deeply  moved. 
It  seemed  to  them  that  they  looked  upon  the  last 
stronghold  of  the  Past,  and  that  afar  off  to  the 
southward  they  could  hear  the  marching  hosts  of 
the  invading  Present ;  and  as  no  young  and  loving 
soul  can  relinquish  old  things  without  a  pang,  they 
sighed  a  long  mute  farewell  to  Quebec. 

Next  summer  they  would  come  again,  yes  ;  but, 
ah  me  I  every  one  knows  what  next  summer  is  I 


Part  of  the  burlesque  troupe  rode  down  in  the 
omnibus  to  the  Grand  Trunk  Ferry  with  them,  and 
were  good-natured  to  the  last,  having  shaken  hands 
all  round  with  the  waiters,  chambermaids,  and 
porters  of  the  hotel.  The  young  fellow  with  the  bad 


K;  m\ 


■ 


I* 


■    ;J 


282 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


amiable  face  came  in  a  calash,  and  refused  to  over* 
pay  the  driver  with  a  gay  decision  that  made  him 
Basil's  envy  till  he  saw  his  tribulation  in  getting 
the  troupe's  luggage  checked.  There  were  forty 
pieces,  and  it  always  remained  a  mystery,  consider- 
ing the  small  amount  of  clothing  necessary  to  those 
people  on  the  stage,  what  could  have  filled  their 
trunks.  The  young  man  and  the  two  English 
blondes  of  American  birth  found  places  in  the  same 
car  with  our  tourists,  and  enlivened  the  journey 
with  their  frolics.  When  the  young  man  pretended 
to  fall  asleep,  they  wrapped  his  golden  curly  head 
in  a  shawl,  and  vexed  him  with  many  thumps  and 
thrusts,  till  he  bought  a  brief  truce  with  a  handful 
of  almonds  ;  and  the  ladies  having  no  other  way  to 
eat  them,  one  of  them  saucily  snatched  off  her  shoe, 
and  cracked  them  hammerwise  with  the  heel.  It 
was  all  so  pleasant  that  it  ought  to  have  been  all 
right ;  and  in  their  merry  world  of  outlawry  perhaps 
things  are  not  so  bad  as  we  like  to  think  them. 

The  country  into  which  the  train  plunges  as  soon 
as  Quebec  is  out  of  siglit  is  very  stupidly  savage, 
and  our  friends  had  little  else  to  do  but  to  watch 
the  gambols  of  the  players,  till  they  came  to  the 
river  St.  Francis,  whose  wandering  loveliness  the 
road  follows  tlirough  an  infinite  series  of  soft  and 
beautiful  landscapes,  and  finds  every^vhere  glass- 
ing in  its  smooth  current  the  elms  and  willows 
of  its  gentle  shores.  At  one  place,  where  its  calm 
broke  into  foamy  rapids,  there  was  a  huge  saw- 


HOMEWARD  AND   HOME. 


283 


mill,  covering  the  stream  with  logs  and  refuse,  and 
the  banks  with  whole  cities  of  lumber  ;  which  also 
tliey  accepted  as  no  mean  elements  of  the  pictur- 
esque. They  clung  the  most  tenderly  to  traces  of  tlie 
peasant  Hfe  they  were  leaving.  When  some  French 
boys  came  aboard  with  \vild  raspberries  to  sell  in 
little  birch-bark  canoes,  they  thrilled  with  pleasure, 
and  bought  them,  but  siglied  then,  and  said,  **  What 
thing  characteristic  of  the  local  life  will  they  sell 
us  in  Maine  when  we  get  there  ?  A  section  of  pie 
poetically  \VTapt  in  a  broad  leaf  of  the  squash-vine, 
or  pop-corn  in  its  native  tissue-paper,  and  advertis- 
ing the  new  Dollar  Store  in  Portland  ?  "  They 
saw  the  quaintness  vanish  from  the  farm-houses ; 
first  the  dormer-windows,  then  the  curve  of  the 
steep  roof,  then  the  steep  roof  itself.  By  and  by 
they  came  to  a  store  with  a  Grecian  portico  and 
four  square  pine  pillars.  They  shuddered  and  looked 
no  more. 

The  guiltily  dreaded  examination  of  baggage  at 
Island  Pond  took  place  at  nine  o'clock,  without  cost- 
ing them  a  cent  of  duty  or  a  pang  of  conscience. 
At  that  charming  station  the  trunks  are  piled 
higgledy-piggledy  into  a  room  beside  the  track, 
where  a  few  inspectors  with  stifling  lamps  of  smoky 
kerosene  await  the  passengers.  There  are  no  por- 
ters to  arrange  the  baggage,  and  each  lady  and  gen- 
tleman digs  out  his  box,  and  opens  it  before  the 
lordly  inspector,  who  stirs  up  its  contents  with  an 
unpleasant  hand  and  passes  it.     He  makes  you  feel 


284 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


fi 


that  you  are  once  more  in  the  land  of  official  inso- 
lence, and  that,  whatever  you  are  collectively,  you 
are  nothing  personally.  Isabel,  who  liad  sent  her 
husband  upon  this  business  with  quaking  meekness 
of  heart,  experienced  the  bold  indignation  of  virtue 
at  his  account  of  the  way  people  were  made  tlieir 
own  baggage-smashers,  and  would  not  be  anmsed 
when  he  painted  the  vile  terrors  of  each  husband  as 
he  tremblingly  unlocked  his  wife's  store  of  contra- 
band. 

The  morning  light  showed  them  the  broad  elmy 
meadows  of  western-looking  Maine  ;  and  the  Grand 
Trunk  brought  them,  of  course,  an  hour  behind 
time  into  Portland.  All  breakfastless  they  hur- 
ried aboard  the  Boston  train  on  the  Eastern  Road, 
and  all  along  that  line  (which  is  built  to  show  how 
uninteresting  the  earth  can  be  when  she  is  ennuy6e 
of  both  sea  and  land),  Basil's  life  became  a  strug- 
gle to  construct  a  meal  from  the  fragmentary  op- 
portunities of  twenty  different  stations  where  tliey 
stopped  five  minutes  for  refreshments.  At  one 
place  he  achieved  two  cups  of  shameless  chickory, 
at  another  three  sardines,  at  a  third  a  dessert  of 
elderly  bananas. 

"  Home  again,  home  again,  from  a  foreign  shore !  *' 

they  softly  sang  as  the  successive  courses  of  this 
feast  were  disposed  of. 

The  (irouth  and  heat,  which  they  had  briefly  es- 
caped during  their  sojourn    in  Canada,  brooded 


HOMEWARD  AND   HOME. 


285 


sovereign  upon  the  tiresome  landacape.  The  red 
granite  rocks  were  as  if  red-hot ;  the  banks  of  tlie 
deep  cuts  were  like  ash-heaps;  over  the  fields  danced 
the  sultry  atmosphere  ;  they  fancied  that  tliey  almost 
heard  the  grasshoppers  sing  above  the  rattle  o(  the 
train.  When  they  reached  Boston  at  hist,  tliey 
were  dustier  than  most  of  us  would  like  to  be  a 
hundred  years  hence.  The  wiiole  city  was  equally 
dusty ;  and  they  found  the  trees  in  the  square  be- 
fore their  own  door  gray  with  dust.  The  bit  of 
Virginia-creeper  planted  under  the  ^vindow  hung 
shriveled  upon  its  trellis. 

But  Isabel's  aunt  met  them  with  a  refreshing 
shower  of  tears  and  kisses  in  the  hall,  throwing  a 
solid  arm  about  each  of  them.  **  O  you  dears  !  " 
the  good  soul  cried,  "  you  don't  know  how  anxious 
I've  been  about  you  ;  so  many  accidents  happening 
all  the  time.  I've  never  read  the  **  Evening  Tran- 
script "  till  the  next  morning,  for  fear  I  should  find 
your  names  among  the  killed  and  wounded." 

"  O  aunty,  you're  too  good,  always  !  "  whimpered 
Isabel ;  and  neither  of  the  women  took  note  of  Basil, 
who  said,  "  Yes,  it 's  probably  the  only  thing  that 
preserved  our  lives." 

The  little  tinge  of  discontent,  which  had  colored 
their  sentiment  of  return  faded  now  in  the  kindly 
light  of  home.  Their  holiday  was  over,  to  be  sure, 
but  their  bliss  had  but  begun ;  they  had  entered 
upon  that  long  life  of  holidays  which  is  happy 
marriage.   By  the  time  dinner  was  ended  they  were 


286 


THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY. 


both  entlinsiastic  at  Imving  got  back,  and  taking 
their  aunt  between  them  walked  up  and  down  tlie 
parlor  with  their  arms  round  her  massive  waist,  and 
talked  out  tlie  gladness  of  their  souls. 

TIhmi  liasil  said  he  really  must  run  down  to  the 
office  that  afternoon,  and  he  issued  all  aglow  upon 
the  street.  He  was  so  full  of  having  been  long  away 
and  of  having  just  returned,  that  he  unconsciously 
tried  to  impart  his  mood  to  Boston,  and  the  dusty 
composure  of  the  street  and  houses,  as  he  strode 
along,  bewildered  him.  He  longed  for  some  famil- 
iar face  to  welcome  him,  and  in  the  horse-car  into 
which  he  stepped  he  was  charmed  to  see  an  acquaint- 
ance. This  was  a  man  for  v.  aom  ordinarily  he  cared 
nothing,  and  whom  he  would  perhaps  rather  have 
gone  out  upon  the  platform  to  avoid  than  have 
spoken  to ;  but  now  he  plunged  at  him  with  effu- 
sion, and  wrung  his  hand,  smiling  from  ear  to  ear. 

The  other  remained  coldly  unaffected,  after  a  first 
start  of  surprise  at  his  cordiality,  and  then  reviled 
the  dust  and  heat.  "  Hut  Tm  going  to  take  a  little 
nin  down  to  Newport,  to-morrow,  for  a  week,"  he 
said.  **  By  the  way,  you  look  as  if  you  needed  a 
little  change.  Aren't  you  going  anywhere  this 
summer  ?  " 


"  So  you  see,  my  dear,"  observed  Basil,  when  he 
had  recounted  the  fact  to  Isabel  at  tea,  "  our  trav- 
els are  incommunicably  our  own.  We  had  best  say 
nothing  about  our  little  jaunt  to  other  people,  and 


the 


HOMEWARD  AND  HOME. 


287 


they  won't  know  we've  been  gone.  Even  if  we 
tried,  we  couldn't  make  our  wedding-journey 
theirs." 

She  gave  him  a  great  kiss  of  recompense  and 
consolation.  "  Who  wants  it,"  she  demanded,  "  to 
be  Their  Wedding  Joui-ney  ?  " 


